Lato Oscuro Luminoso
by D-Murphy
Summary: Kuchiki Ginrei has been called out of retirement and forced to bring along his two students as Soul Society comes under attack from an army of Hollows and a traitor in their midst. Weekly updates, and now with actual formatted scene breaks.
1. Chapter I

_Author's Note: Firstly, obviously, Bleach isn't mine, it belongs to Kubo Tite. Secondly, this fic does have OCs in it, so if you'd prefer to avoid that then maybe click away. Thirdly, many thanks to Reecey-Boy_ _for reading over and providing concrit. Fourthly, reviews are always appreciated._

_Okay, let's go then._

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><p><span>Bleach: Lato OscuroLuminoso.

Prologue. 

He thought the temple was a mirage at first. Apart from the ever-looming spires of Las Noches, there were no buildings in Hueco Mundo, just endless sand broken only by the crystal trees and the roaming Hollows.

As he got closer, he realised it was real. It wasn't an impressive building – the size of two or maybe three houses, carved from white stone, with no roof and gaps for doors. But it was a building, and that made it special enough.

As he drew closer, he felt spiritual pressure from within. It wasn't strong, but he could tell from its timbre and texture that it could have been a long time ago. He put his hand on his zanpakuto, stepping inside.

The building's interior was one vast room, almost empty save for a pedestal at the far end. Atop the pedestal sat a white sphere, carved from some crystal similar to that of the trees, glowed faintly. It was small enough that he knew he could fit it into his palm.

"I've been waiting for you," a voice said.

He turned. The being whose spiritual pressure he'd felt – an aged (or old seeming, he supposed) Arrancar with a white beard down to his feet and a mane of white hair streaked with grey, two wing-shaped mask fragments rising from amongst the tangles of hair. He wasn't dressed like a resident of Las Noches – he'd wrapped himself in a simple grey cloak instead.

"Why?" He asked.

The arrancar tilted his head. "Why not, child? Come. Let me show you what you've been looking for, my child."

* * *

><p><span>Chapter I: Deep and Savage Road. <span>

Kuchiki Ginrei had been quite enjoying his retirement.

('Retirement' said in his head like a particularly wry joke, but he did spend a lot more time sitting and drinking tea these days, and you couldn't ask for fairer than that.)

The office of the captain-commander was empty save for the man himself, sat at a desk with his head bowed and his eyes closed, as if he had dozed off. Ginrei eyed him, pressing a hand to his stomach and folding into a deep bow that hurt his back.

With his gaze at the floor, he called, clear and crisp and in the curt, reverent tones of one who knew his place: "Wake up, you daft fool."

Yamamoto opened one eye, his moustache bristling slightly. He lifted an eyebrow. "You've lost your manners in your old age, along with the rest of your mind."

"Someone's grumpy. Did you not get your backrub this morning, Captain-Commander?" Ginrei straightened up, fixing his stare on Yamamoto.

"I have half a mind to throw you in a cell for insubordination," Yamamoto grumbled, "but you're so frail these days that it'd probably kill you."

"Better frail than chubby, Captain-Commander."

Yamamoto opened his other eye, staring at Ginrei. Ginrei stared back. Yamamoto stroked a thumb over his walking stick, narrowing an eye slightly.

Eventually, a slow smile spread across his face, just barely reaching his eyes. "Sit down, Ginrei. We're too old to stand on ceremony with each other."

Ginrei inclined his head slightly, taking a seat opposite Yamamoto as he rapped his staff against the ground. Twenty seconds later, the door opened, and a shaking young man came stumbling in with a metal tray holding two cups and a pot of tea.

"Slow," Yamamoto grumbled, "and sloppy."

The young man panickedly murmured his apologies, making a hasty exit.

Ginrei watched him go, pouring himself some tea. "Still tormenting the teaboys?"

"It'll teach him to keep a cool head. If he can calm down, he'll be a captain one day," Yamamoto replied mildly, holding out his cup. Ginrei poured. He lifted it to his nose, sniffing. "Saffron. He shows initiative. I might see if Jushiro will take him under his wing."

"How are the boys?" Ginrei asked.

"Brats," Yamamoto replied. Ginrei could detect a hint of fondness to his tone. "How are your two?"

Ginrei peered at him over his cup, milling the tea around a little. It was a pleasant greenish-brown colour. The last time he'd been here the tea had been practically lemon yellow, and Yamamoto's disapproval had been so strong that Ginrei could've sworn he'd heard the occasional terrified squeak from outside.

"You know," he murmured, "we never have social visits anymore."

"We went to the hot springs last month. You're losing your memory, Ginrei," Yamamoto replied.

"If I remember correctly, you spent that whole visit running border defence plans by me," Ginrei said, "and occasionally complaining about the temperature." Yamamoto fixed him with a stare. Ginrei allowed himself a small smile and took a sip of his tea. "At this very moment? I suspect one is drunk and the other is egotistical."

"You've done a poor job teaching them," Yamamoto groused.

"I shall not be lectured on students by you," Ginrei replied calmly. "They can serve, if that's what you want. So long as I'm there to keep an eye on them and give them a good smack around the ears if they get out of line."

"You have to do that a lot?"

"My hand," Ginrei replied, "has ear-shaped marks on it."

Yamamoto nodded slowly. For several minutes, he sipped his tea silently, pausing occasionally to roll it around in the cup and stare at it, looking for imperfections. "Bring them here tomorrow morning. I will test them myself."

Ginrei cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. "Alone? That's hardly standard." Yamamoto looked up, giving him a meaningful look. "Well, far be it from me to argue."

"We face a crisis." Yamamoto said. "If I had the luxury of procedure or common sense I would not be drawing you or your students into this."

* * *

><p>If it got any colder, it would be snowing, and in a way Ichigo would have found that a relief.<p>

Snow was better than the driving, icy rain that was currently pouring down on him with no hope of shelter. Of course there was no shelter – of _course _Urahara would ask to meet on a night when it was cold and wet, and of _course _he would choose somewhere that had no shelter, and of _course _he would be late.

Urahara Kisuke was, after all, a complete and gleeful sadist.

He had an umbrella when he came into view. Ichigo tried very hard not to yell at him.

"I hate you, Hat-and-Cloggs," he said levelly.

"Oh, I've heard that one before," Urahara replied airily, flapping a hand in front of himself. "Sorry I'm late." He wasn't sorry at all, Ichigo could tell.

"What is this about? People notice if I go sneaking out in the middle of the night," Ichigo said irritably.

Urahara tipped his hat up, smiling benignly. "Just a notice that there are things afoot."

Ichigo cocked his head slightly, irritation and cold temporarily forgotten. "'Things afoot?'"

Urahara shrugged. "I can't be much more detailed than that. My monitoring equipment has been catching unusual patterns of spiritual pressure from Soul Society – on and off again, a few times a week, for the past month."

"And that means?"

"Oh! I couldn't possibly say," Urahara said, flapping his hand again. "I may be as _terrifically _intelligent as I am handsome, but I'm not omniscient. You'll know when I know. Just – be on your guard. This isn't normal."

Ichigo frowned. "Not normal doesn't mean bad."

"No," Urahara said lamentingly, "but it so rarely means good these days."

* * *

><p>Morning light was just peeking over Sokyoku Hill when the walls of Seireitei came crashing down. Swarming from the perimeters came black butterflies, winding into every building, blaring an alarm with each flap of their wings.<p>

One slightly purple butterfly with a crooked wing fluttered haltingly down towards the Thirteenth Division barracks, alighting on the nose of Kuchiki Rukia. With a flick of its antennae, it screamed an alert into her face in the booming tones of the captain-commander.

"_The boundary of Seireitei has been breached in sector twelve. We are under attack. Thirteenth Division, Second Division and Ninth Division mobilise to neutralise the threat. Fourth Division, please stand by to deal with casualties. All divisions prepare to back-up if necessary."_

Her eyes snapped open. With a groan and a wave of her hand, she batted the butterfly away. She rolled out of bed, plucking her uniform off the wall and shuffling into it. Her hair looked like a particularly monstrous bird had laid a black nest on her head, but she wasn't going to waste time combing it. She ran her hands through it very quickly and ducked out of the barracks, speeding towards sector twelve.

She ground to a halt as she drew alongside the familiar bulk of Omaeda and spiky black hair of Hisagi. The wall was shrouded in smoke and crumbled masonry, forming a heavy white cloud through which a vast shape could be seen, a faint red light burning at its chest.

"What's the situation?" She asked.

"I've ordered all seats to withdraw until we know more about the threat," Hisagi replied, "they're keeping a safe distance until told otherwise. I don't want them put at unnecessary risk."

Omaeda snorted derisively. "Bleeding heart." Hisagi ignored him.

From the smoke, a white porcelain shape emerged. Rukia eased a foot backwards, her hand going to her sword. It was a hollow mask, shaped like the face of a doll, with vast and empty voids for eyes and rows of sharp teeth. Rukia couldn't remember when she'd last seen a Hollow so vast.

Omaeda stumbled back, drawing his sword and waving it frantically. Hisagi crooked an eyebrow down, brushing his fingers along the hilt of his sword and waiting.

Beneath the mask, a ribcage emerged, grey muscle bulging through and stretching out to heavy arms, tipped with metal gauntlets ending in red claws. A pair of stumpy legs crashed forward, trailing behind them a thick tail.

"That's – that's very ... big," Omaeda mumbled, and Rukia suppressed the urge to give him a good smack and tell him to stand his ground.

Hisagi's eyes, she realised, were glued – figuratively speaking – to the hollow's chest. Rukia followed his gaze and took another step back, drawing her sword, her eyes widening.

"No Hollow hole," she murmured.

It wasn't completely true. A hole had been there at some point surely, but it had been blocked with a heavy, glowing red sphere, pipes spreading out across the hollow's chest like luminescent arteries.

"Don't take the risk of holding back," Hisagi said, drawing his sword. "We don't know what this thing is capable of."

"It's _huge," _Omaeda said.

"Yes, we know," Rukia said wearily, setting a hand on her sword. "Dance, Sode no Shirayuki." With a hiss of cold wind and a sparkle of snow, the sword turned stark white, a ribbon stretching out at the end.

On either side of her, Omaeda and Hisagi set their hands on their blades.

"Smash, Gegetsuburi."

"Reap, Kazeshini."

Hisagi lifted one of Kazeshini's blades, the corner of his lips twitching down as if to silently say 'don't get any ideas, we're still not friends'. "Attack the mask and the red orb. Stay focused." He kicked off the ground, one blade spinning.

Rukia barely saw the hollow move. As Hisagi reached it, the mask snapped around and the eyes opened a little wider, then expanded abruptly, the void consuming the hollow's body and then fizzling into thin air. As Rukia watched, it rematerialised behind Hisagi, batting him into a building with a swing of its claw.

Omaeda seemed rooted to the spot, halfway between standing and walking, babbling something about money and gold, and _didn't it know who he was? _Rukia reached around, shoving him forward.

"Cover me, Lieutenant Omaeda."

"R-right," Omaeda stammered as the doll's face mask turned towards them, its mouth breaking open into a massive, toothy grin. "I'm going."

Hefting his flail over his shoulder, he sprinted forward, leaping onto a building and rebounding upwards, swinging it above his head. The metal ball collided with the hollow's mask with a deafening crack, a long fissure appearing down the porcelain, tiny shards drifting off.

Rukia flicked her sword downwards, the ribbon curving around her into a circle. She lowered her blade, puncturing the ground, a stream of white light drifting up.

An eye widened. The porcelain started to reform, the crack flickering away. Another eye widened. A claw swept up beneath Omaeda's feet. He vanished with a rush of air, appearing on a nearby building, one hand out.

"Way of Destruction Thirty-One: Red Fire Cannon," he wheezed. A ball of red fire burst out from his palm, exploding harmlessly against the hollow's shoulder.

Rukia punctured the ground again. Another trail of white light rose up.

A claw smashed down into the building Omaeda was on. For a moment, Rukia couldn't see him. Then she spotted something of immense girth and gaudiness stumbling along the hollow's shoulder, smashing his flail against its mask with no effect.

With a flick, the hollow tossed him off, lifting a claw above him as he plummeted to the ground.

Rukia punctured the ground a third time. A trail of white light rose up.

As the claw descended on Omaeda, a spinning blade came out of the darkness, a chain trailing behind it, cutting through the air above the claw and arcing around in a loop, tightening and tensing suddenly, holding the claw still.

Hisagi stepped out of the shadows, the other end of Kazeshini pulled back past his shoulder.

Rukia punctured the ground a fourth time, lifting her sword. "Next Dance: White Ripple." A wave of white burst from the sword, gathering speed and size, its glow refracting off the trail of snowflakes it flung out over its wake.

It engulfed the vast hollow up to its shoulders, slowing and solidifying into a upswept peak of ice, sparkling as it edged its way up across the mask. With a cracking sound, it glowed and shattered, the hollow's body shattering with it, the shards of ice breaking into glittering dust.

Hisagi allowed himself a small smile. Omaeda snorted to himself.

She heard it materialise behind her before she saw it. She felt the claw close around her before she noticed Hisagi's expression turning to horror. She felt herself crash into a building before she felt the claw marks in her arms.

She heard the thump of feet against the ground. Omaeda landed next to her, then Hisagi flopped atop him, bleeding from a gash across his back.

Rukia looked up. Blurrily, she could see the hollow looming over her, its maw open wide as a red ball of light revolved in front of it, gathering size and brightness.

The beam hummed as it shot towards them, a great disk of red that loomed ahead of them. Rukia tried to shut her eyes. They remained peeled open, watching the red light get closer and closer, as if it were moving in slow motion.

A shape blurred into view, blocking it. A man. Tall. A white haori fluttering.

"Brother?" Rukia ventured.

The figure lifted a hand, holding it up in a halting sign. Rukia raised an arm to shield her face from the light. A second later, it dissipated, leaving only motes of red drifting through the air.

The figure in front of her was not her brother, she decided. Her brother was too young for grey hair, and far too young for a moustache that impressive.

"_Grandfather?" _ She said, not quite believing. "I thought you were retired."

"So did I," Ginrei replied.

A pause.

"You'll hurt your back," Rukia supplied.

"Stop fussing, child," Ginrei replied serenely. "I wasn't expecting to have to mount a rescue today." He lifted his head, calling at one of the nearby buildings. "Eiji, Shuki."

Rukia looked up. There were two more figures, both in white haoris.

One, a tall young man with scruffy, shaggy black hair falling over his eyes and a wide smile, was sat with one knee raised and his arm resting on it, fingers wound around a red bowl of sake. The top half of his uniform was torn down the middle, hanging open, one sleeve torn off as a sleeveless captain's haori rested loosely on his shoulders. He had odd, woolly socks – one bright red and one white with purple stripes – and his hands were wrapped in colourfully mismatched bandages. One was decorated with pictures of Chappu the Rabbit.

"Captain Kougami," he replied amusedly.

"Don't get cocky, boy," Ginrei replied.

The other, a young woman with her white-blond hair styled into elaborate spikes and tufts, held up by a bright red headband that stopped just above green-grey eyes, was smarter. Her kosode and haori were sleeveless, but it looked like they had never had sleeves, not just that one kosode sleeve had been lost in an accident. She had a red scarf on, billowing out behind her, and stood barefoot on the building.

"You didn't tell me that two of them were so pretty," she purred.

Omaeda preened from beneath Hisagi. "Well, I _do _take - ..."

"Not you, dear," Shuki said kindly. "You should stay out of sight."

Rukia blinked, taking all three in. She had seen the two once or twice, in her visits to her grandfather's small house. They were servants – silent, discreet, keeping their heads down. Now they, and her grandfather, were all dressed as captains.

"You and your servants, you're all - ..."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, child," Ginrei intoned. "You may address me as Captain Kuchiki of the Ninth Division from now on, and my _students _as Captain Kougami of the Fifth Division and Captain Higa of the Third Division."

"... Yes. Sir."

"Smart girl," Ginrei remarked.

The hollow roared, smashing a hand against the ground. If Rukia didn't know better, she would have thought it was protesting the lack of attention being paid to it. Ginrei turned his gaze towards it, eyes narrowing and eyebrows lowering. Rukia had seen that expression from time to time from Byakuya whenever somebody had done something _especially _undignified.

"Eiji, Shuki. You may now attend to the guest," Ginrei said dismissively, waving a hand.

Shuki's face broke into a grin. Eiji's lips twitched slightly, his smile growing just a fraction. With a gulp, he finished off his sake, tossing the bowl aside. With a rush of air, both vanished.

Two long lines appeared across the hollow's core, criss-crossing over each other, then two more, then two more. Snaking out from the gashes, cracks began to appear, leaking red light. Eiji and Shuki appeared at the hollow's feet, swords in hand.

"Race you, drunkard," Shuki said.

Eiji chuckled.

They both vanished again. As Rukia watched, the hollow's eyes widened, expanding to cover its body before it dissipated, reappearing high above with a deep laugh as Eiji and Shuki reappeared. Shuki flicked her sword back to rest on her shoulder as Eiji sheathed his, pulling a bottle from his obi and gulping from it.

Above, the hollow's claws fell off. Then its legs. Its head detached from its body and, as it drifted towards the clouds, slid apart in the centre. One by one, its exposed ribs broke, and then one by one, they broke again, and one by one, a third time. As it started to fall, the red orb in its chest disintegrated.

It had faded away before it hit the ground.

Ginrei huffed in a breath, fixing a stony stare onto the two new captains. "Slow," he said, "and sloppy. Maybe next time you'll focus more on the enemy and less on your ridiculous games."

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><p><em>Okay, next chapter up soon.<em>


	2. Chapter II

_So here's the second chapter, which is mostly establishing character for Shuki and Eiji. I've been eyeing up the story stats and I'm grateful to everyone who's read – if you feel like leaving a review then please do, I'd be overjoyed. Again, this was betaed by Reecey-Boy, and Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite, not me._

_Also, this fic has now been correctly formatted and scene breaks have been added in. I had no idea wouldn't take three hyphens._

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><p><span>Chapter II: Alcohol, Swordfights and Betrayal.<span>

"Reporting for duty, Captain Higa!" Hinamori said as enthusiastically as she could, bowing.

It had all come out of the blue. When the butterfly had fluttered down to Hinamori and told her, she had called Hitsugaya immediately. He'd told her, with shock colouring his voice, that he hadn't heard anything about new captains. She'd heard him yelling at Rangiku to ask her, and then reported, a little sulkily, that she knew nothing either.

The butterfly had specified that she was to meet Captain Higa at the Fifth Division Training Grounds, so she'd washed, dressed and headed out to meet her there. Now she was there, Higa was – not what she was expecting, somehow.

(A part of her had expected a woman with fluffy brown hair, thick rimmed glasses and a comforting smile, but she had tried to quash that part of her.)

"Lieutenant Hinamori?" Shuki asked, turning around and discarding her haori. Hinamori noted that she was barefoot. "You're shorter than I thought you'd be. Younger, too. You looked older in the picture, somehow."

Hinamori knew the picture she meant. It had been taken during the record updates, after she'd woken up from Aizen's attack on her. Her eyes had been dull, her skin pale and blotchy, her hair unkempt despite her best attempts to tame it. Stress hadn't been kind to her back then.

"I didn't know we were getting a new captain," she said with a bright smile at Shuki. Shuki smiled back, putting her hands on her hips.

"Temporary captain. Eiji, Ginrei and I are only here until permanent replacements can be found," Shuki said. "We were called in _very _abruptly. Speaking of, avoid Captain Kougami Eiji like the plague. He'll try to seduce you, and a sweet girl like you deserves better."

Hinamori turned bright red. "O-oh. I'll, erm, I'll keep that in mind."

"Do. He's a fiend when he's drunk, and he's always drunk. He's even worse when he's on the opium at the same time," Shuki shook her head slightly. "Just tell me or Captain Kuchiki if he tries anything."

Hinamori blinked. "Captain Kuchiki?"

"Ginrei," Shuki clarified. "Not his grandson. Although I'm sure Byakuya would deal with him too, but I wouldn't want to inflict that on the poor man."

Hinamori was suddenly very concerned about Kira, if his options for captain were either a drunken drug addict or Kuchiki Byakuya's grandfather, whom she could only imagine was even colder and more steely than his grandson.

"So," Shuki said suddenly, moving towards Hinamori. "You were Aizen's protégé?"

Hinamori went cold. "Y-yes," she said, standing stock still as the taller woman moved past her. "Captain Aizen was my captain for a very long time."

"_Captain _Aizen?" Shuki asked, sounding amused in the same way that Hinamori imagined a lioness would sound amused by a baby gazelle. "Didn't he screw that up when he became a traitor? He's just Aizen now. Aizy to his friends."

"Y-yes," Hinamori stammered. "Just Aizen. I ... forget. Sometimes. It's not been long since he left."

Shuki came to a stop a little way behind her, looking up at the trees and blowing out a long breath. "It damaged you pretty bad when he betrayed you, didn't it? But you don't sound angry about it at all. Pretty weird, if you ask me. I reckon I'd be out for his head on a stake if he did that to me."

Hinamori frowned, staring at the floor. "Captain Higa ... did you call me here to talk to me about Aizen?"

There was a long pause. Shuki sighed quietly.

"No," she said, drawing her sword, "I called you here to kill you."

* * *

><p>When Kira opened the doors to the Third Division barracks, the roar from within was almost deafening.<p>

"Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!"

Captain Kougami Eiji – he presumed from the white haori, at least – was downing a bowl of sake, while opposite him the Fourth Seat, a large and hirsute man with a heavy beard, downed his own bowl, his eyes fixed on the captain.

They slammed down their bowls at the same time with a loud clatter. The Fourth Seat wobbled in his seat slightly, glowering at the captain as several unseated shinigami hurried over to top up their bowls. Eiji lounged with his zanpakuto beside him and one arm propped up on a raised knee, smiling in a way that reminded Kira of nothing more pleasant than Ichimaru Gin.

"Want to place another bet?" Eiji's smile widened into a toothy grin.

"What're you offerin'?" The Fourth Seat replied.

"Captaincy over the Third Division!" Eiji said happily, "if you win. If I win, I get your wages for a month."

"Fine!" The Fourth Seat said, slamming down a hand. "Let's do this, prettyboy. One."

Kira just stared. _Why _was nobody speaking up about this? The Third Division wasn't the Eleventh, they weren't some chaotic rabble of drunk brawlers. The new captain had only arrived an hour ago.

"Two," the Fourth Seat said. "Three!"

"Drink!" The crowd yelled. "Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!"

Both men downed their drinks. There was a long silence. Eiji shook himself off slightly. The Fourth Seat leant forward, as if to taunt him, and then kept leaning until he crashed into the table. A cheer rose from the crowd, although Kira had no doubt that they would've cheered just as loud if the Fourth Seat had won.

"Captain Kougami?" Kira asked hesitantly.

He turned, smiling at Kira. "Lieutenant Hangdog, I assume?"

"Excuse me?" Kira blinked. He paused, quickly gathering himself. "Lieutenant Kira, sir. I've been in charge of the Third until now. It's good to meet you. I look forward to working together."

Eiji grinned, gesturing down at the seat the Fourth Seat had been in.

"Ah," Kira started, eyeing it. "I couldn't. Really."

"C'mon, lad," Eiji drawled slowly, "relax, calm down, have a few drinks. We can get to know each other. Hey, it might even make you cheer up a little."

Kira blanched, but slowly eased the Fourth Seat out of the seat.

"So," Eiji said, "what're we betting?"

"We – we're competing?" Kira asked, feeling a slight tinge of panic set in. The captain had just drunk a man twice his size beneath a table, after all.

"Of course, man," Eiji chuckled, "don't worry, you have a massive advantage."

* * *

><p>Shuki's sword whistled over Hinamori's head, cleaving through a tree. As it changed direction, swinging down diagonally, Hinamori raised her sword. The two crashed together with a shower of sparks, the force shoving her down onto her knees.<p>

"What's wrong?" Shuki asked, her sword edging towards Hinamori's face. "Aren't you going to fight back? It's no fun killing you if you just _let _me."

Hinamori grit her teeth.

"Carriage of thunder, bridge of the spinning wheel," she said softly. Her eyes were stinging, and it was getting difficult to see. She could feel the edge of her sword scraping just lightly against her forehead. "With light, divide this into six. Way of Binding Sixty-One: Six Rods Prison of Light."

Light burst forth from her finger, arcing around into six wide beams of light and slamming into Shuki's midsection. Shuki froze, paralysed save for a twitch in her face, as Hinamori rolled away.

"Disintegrate, you black dog of Rodanini," she said, tracing a symbol in the air. Red light trailed from her fingers. "Look upon yourself in horror and then claw out your own throat. Way of Binding Nine: Strike." Red light surrounded Shuki, stilling the last vestiges of movement.

Hinamori took another step back, a hand raised defensively. "I don't understand," she protested, "I don't know why you're doing this, Captain Higa. I don't want to fight you."

She expected the burst of spiritual pressure from the captain, fragmenting the air as the red outline around her was overtaken with a burning purple light. The rods holding her started to crack, shards of light drifting off them. Before Hinamori could react, a wave of purple spread outwards, shattering the rods. Hinamori held her arms up defensively.

She raised her sword as she felt a rush of air, metal hitting metal as Shuki appeared in front of her. "You can do better than that, Hinamori," Shuki grinned. "Do you just _bind _all your opponents?"

Hinamori leapt backwards, holding her sword up. The words came out gratingly, forced from between her teeth: "Snap, Tobiume." Tobiume glowed pink, plum blossoms flitting off it as it widened, three prongs protruding from its side.

Hinamori flicked it around, fire rippling up the edge into a bolt of red-pink flame, rocketing towards Shuki.

"That's more like it," Shuki chuckled as she batted it away with her sword. Hinamori flickered out of view, reappearing behind her, another blast of flame arcing towards her back. She dodged, reappearing up in the trees. Another blast of flame came up from beneath her, scorching through the wood and leaves. Shuki vanished again.

"Way of Binding Four: Crawling Rope," she said, throwing out her three hand. A yellow rope wound out of it, snaking towards Hinamori.

"Way of Destruction Four," Hinamori replied sharply. "White Lightning."

The bolt of energy hit the rope in mid air, disintegrating it and whistling over Shuki's shoulder. "I always was terrible with the Demon Arts," Shuki admitted.

Hinamori swung her sword, levelling another fireball at her. Shuki dodged, flickering out of the way of another fireball as it whistled through the air.

"If you know those won't work, why do you keep using them?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's a distraction," Hinamori said, stabbing her sword into the ground. "Five points of light, connect and burn. Beast of the North, howl; Beast of the East, weep; Beast of the West, laugh; Beast of the South, speak; Beast of the Centre, be silent."

Shuki looked down. Where the errant fireballs had struck there were five perfectly spaced craters, each one now glowing with coloured light. "You clever cow. I _like _you."

Hinamori twisted her sword about. "Way of Destruction Seventy-Five: Five Pillar Convergance."

Five pillars of light arose, the central white pillar catching Shuki with a roar of energy. Around her, red, blue, green and yellow pillars moved in until they crashed in on her, burning brilliantly white, splitting the clouds open above them.

A few seconds later there was a rush of wind and the pillar disintegrated. Shuki's kimono was scorched slightly, her hair singed as smoke drifted off her sword. _"Nice, _lieutenant."

"Do I pass then?" Hinamori asked, sheathing her sword.

Shuki lowered an eyebrow a little. "How'd you know it was a test?"

Hinamori ducked her head. "Well, I didn't at first – but you never hit me. As a captain, I ... I suppose if you wanted to kill me you could've just released your zanpakuto and struck me down. You needed to connect swords with me to feel what I was like."

Shuki tilted her head back, grinning. "You're going to go far , Hinamori."

* * *

><p>"I ... trusted him, yeah?" Kira slurred. "'Cause, 'cause he was my <em>cap'n, <em>and you're s'pposed t'trust your cap'n. An' he stabbed me in the back."

Two things were abundantly clear to Kira. Firstly, that even as he said this he would regret it as soon as he was sober. Secondly, that his captain had probably spiked his sake with something stronger, and that was probably how he'd been winning all the drinking contests so far.

"Aizen too. I _liked _Aizen. He was like, like, like a mentor to me. You know?" Kira said dejectedly. "And Tousen seemed nice. A bit intense. He – he talked a lot about justice. A _lot. _All the time."

"I read his column," Eiji said sympathetically.

Most of the Third Division had even fallen asleep or slunk off by now, when it was clear that the drinking contest had just turned into mutually companionable alcohol consumption.

"You just don't expect someone who, who talks that much about _justice _to stab you in the back," Kira said. He gulped down a little more sake. "Hisagi seemed to think he was a ... a ... really good guy."

"You can't trust people with highfalutin moral codes," Eiji said. "People with that many morals will always put their _beliefs _before _people, _you know? Now a drunk, you can trust a drunk with your life. Drunks are honest."

"You would say that," Kira said.

"I would," Eiji agreed distractedly, looking up at a black butterfly fluttering through the window to alight upon his shoulder.

"_Captain Kougami, please report to a captain's meeting immediately." _

Eiji considered this for a moment, before holding his sake bowl up to the butterfly.

* * *

><p>"<em>Three <em>new captains?" Soi-Fon asked, folding her arms. "Who oversaw their examinations? Why were none of us notified? Why have we never heard of two of them before?"

"_I _oversaw their examinations," Yamamoto said, opening an eye. "Nobody else was necessary. They have Kuchiki Ginrei's faith, which is good enough for all of you."

"Forgive me," Unohana said, giving Yamamoto a sidelong look. "But this is very abrupt. Those captaincies have remained open for months, and now you appoint three temporary captains simultaneously, without using the usual methods. Is there something we should know?"

The doors swung open before Yamamoto could respond. Ginrei stood beyond, his students behind him, framed by the afternoon light.

"Maaan," Eiji said after a few moments of silent staring, lifting a sake bowl to his lips. "This is awkward."

Ginrei tilted his head, his expression steely as he surveyed the captains. "I understand that this is very sudden for all of you. But the Captain-Commander has made it perfectly clear to me that this is a situation of urgency,with a crisis threatening us," he stepped forward into the captain's hall, his arms folded behind him. "Rest assured, they are more than capable of serving."

"That is not the concern," Byakuya said sharply.

"If we need temporary captains, then Lieutenant Abarai and Substitute Shinigami Kurosaki could fulfil those roles," Komamura added.

"Who _cares?_" Kenpachi snapped.

"Allow me to explain," Ginrei said. "As you are all aware, there is no provision for retirement in the Gotei Thirteen, so I shan't have anyone accusing me of _pretending _to be retired. You were all," he gave Byakuya a long look, "completely aware that I was still serving in some capacity, and that whatever role I had taken on, it was secretive."

Byakuya met his gaze, one eyebrow rising by a microfraction of a millimetre.

"Upon my departure from the Gotei Thirteen, the Captain-Commander set me the task of locating and training talented shinigami to operate outside of the bounds of the Gotei Thirteen, to be drawn upon in cases of emergencies. With a smaller number of students, I could accelerate their training."

"_These two _are the products of your focused training?" Soi-Fon asked incredulously.

"They are young, arrogant, filled with vice and wouldn't be able to tie their shoelaces without causing chaos if I wasn't around to keep them in line," Ginrei admitted. "But their skill is undeniable, and if I'll be brutally honest – hiring practices have always been more about power than personality." His eyes flicked over to Kenpachi.

"What do Lieutenants Kira and Hinamori think about this?" Hitsugaya asked.

"Lieutenant Kira is currently sobering up, but he seemed very complimentary. Captain Kougami is apparently his new best friend," Unohana said mildly. She turned, smiling gently at Eiji, "Captain Kougami, if it isn't too much trouble, please don't throw any more of your parties again. My division barracks are full of your men having fallen unconscious, gotten into fights, or had accidents while intoxicated."

Eiji took a step back, stammering. "I – I – I mean, yes. Of course, C-captain Unohana."

"Dork," Shuki whispered under her breath.

"Oh, that's perfectly okay," Unohana said kindly, "but we will have to have _words _if it happens again, Captain Kougami. I'm sure you won't have any problem with that, Ginrei?"

"None at all, Captain Unohana," Ginrei said, bowing slightly.

Soi-Fon scowled. "This still doesn't explain why no other captains were informed - ..."

Yamamoto's cane slammed against the floor. "Silence!" He opened his eyes, glaring at the gathered captains. "My word on this is final."

Silence fell on the captain's hall again. It was Ukitake who spoke first, coughing nervously. "Well, now that that's dealt with: Captain Kurotsuchi. You were going to make a report to us?"

Mayuri tilted his head, eyes going wide, lips peeling back to reveal bright golden teeth. "Ye-e-es. I've been personally overseeing research on the composition of the red orb found in the Hollow that Captain Kougami and Captain Higa destroyed this morning." He flicked a hand, a transparent projection of several red shards appearing in the air. "The orb is a machine for drawing in particles of spiritual energy – part of the reason we were able to analyse it so quickly was because of similar work on the Quincy. When embedded with it, a lifeform becomes dependent on it, but in exchange their power and abilities are vastly increased by the ability to draw massive amounts of energy from their surroundings."

Ukitake frowned. "So the giant Hollow ... ?"

"A regular Hollow, physically altered by the power of the orb. When used on a Menos, the transformation would be _quite _catastrophic," Mayuri's grin grew a little bit wider, "my calculations suggest that a Gillian embedded with an orb would rapidly evolve into a Vasto Lorde."

Ukitake's eyes widened. "That's _impossible." _

Mayuri swung his gaze towards him, cocking his head the other way. "Well, there's always a margin for error."

"An ability like that could make an army of hundreds of Vasto Lordes," Soi-Fon said. "Soul Society would be torn apart."

"Captain-Commander," Ginrei said suddenly. "Permission to begin working with the Kido Corps and the Second Division to more heavily fortify the Court of Pure Souls?"

"Permission granted," Yamamoto said immediately. "Work with Captain Kurotsuchi and the Twelfth Division on it as well."

"Thank you, Captain-Commander," Ginrei replied, bowing his head a little. "We'll need to be well-prepared if there's the possibility of a Vasto Lorde attack."

"It gets worse," Mayuri said with obvious glee. "The Hollow that entered Soul Society earlier this morning entered during the patrol duty change, in a surveillance blind spot that had been created by targeted sabotage of our alert systems. My division has begun repairs on the alert systems already, but the sabotage allowed it to sneak very close before our alarms went off."

Soi-Fon tilted her head. "My division was in charge of adjusting the alert systems codes, locations and defences after Kaname Tousen's defection. The only people with access to both that information and the patrol duty rosters would be a captain."

"_Correct," _Mayuri said.

Yamamoto let out a long breath. "Then it is as I suspected. We have a traitor within Soul Society."

* * *

><p><em>Okay, next chapter will be up in a week. Reviews are always appreciated, and thank you for reading.<em>


	3. Chapter III

_So, here's chapter three. A little more focus on Ichigo and his gang for this one._

Chapter III: The Horsemen.

Long fingers curled across the red orb, then flicked it over the sands of Hueco Mundo. The Vasto Lorde was only a shade taller than the shinigami, white-armoured with a pair of glowing eyes peering out from its ornate helmet. The red orb sank into its hole, pipes working their way out over the armour and burrowing inwards.

"Your name will be Donatello of War, last of the horsemen," the shinigami said, his hand retreating beneath his ragged cloak. "As a reward for your admirable work."

"The mission was a success, then?"

"It has been confirmed: We can access the Court of Pure Souls undetected at any time we wish," the shinigami said. "The shinigami are in disarray. You have done well, Donatello. I have another assignment for you – meet with Michelangelo of Pestilence and Leonardo of Famine and prepare for an assault."

"My lord?" Donatello asked.

"We are to seize the Kurosaki boy, dead or alive."

* * *

><p>Ichigo felt it before he heard it, the tear of space and the rush of spiritual energy through the void. The world fragmented around him, flickering as if beset by static. His eyes snapped open, the dream (it had involved Rukia, watermelons, Orihime, a gigantic stuffed dolphin, and death) fading away.<p>

He was out of his body before Kon could wake up, leaping out the window with one hand going for his sword. Across Karakura Town, he could sense Orihime, Chad and Ishida moving towards the disturbance. He looked up, eyes going wide.

Above the city, a garganta opened like a great mouth, smiling and gaping open to an expanse of darkness. The spiritual pressure grew suddenly stronger, bearing down on Ichigo as three white-armoured figures appeared, red lights glowing on their chest.

They stepped forward, the air shuddering with every movement, floating down to the road. One, a tall, heavy-set Vasto Lorde in jagged, spiky white-armour, bull-like horns protruding from his helmet as black dreadlocks flowed down his back, rose to his feet first, red eyes glowing beneath a visor.

The Vasto Lorde bowed to him, exaggeratedly low. "Substitute Shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo. It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Donatello of War."

Ichigo paused, squinting. "Like ... the turtle?"

Donatello paused. Ichigo could practically hear him blinking. "Excuse me?"

"The turtle," Ichigo said, a little nonplussed. "With the bandana."

"Like the _artist," _Donatello said. "These are my companions, Leonardo of Famine," he gestured to the Vasto Lorde on his right, a slender male wings of white bone and a bird-like head, "and Michelangelo of Pestilence," he gestured to the Vasto Lorde on his left, a tall woman, her limbs strangely elongated, her head shaped into a spiked crown.

Ichigo scratched the back of his neck, closing one eye. "To be honest, I don't care about your names. You're not wanted here."

One of Donatello's eyes glowed a little brighter. "How awfully rude of you."

"Sorry, I guess I'm not a very polite guy," Ichigo shrugged. "But I don't know you from any other hollow, and I don't trust you."

Donatello bowed his head slightly, a creak of porcelain and bone resounding. "In truth, Mister Kurosaki, we don't have any interest in this town. We're here for you. If you'd like to come with us, this can be all be resolved amicably."

Ichigo scowled, pulling his sword from his back, the cloth wrappings tumbling about the air. "No thanks. It might be selfish, but I'd rather stay right where I am."

Donatello's eyes flashed. "A shame."

"We were ordered to take him dead or alive," Leonardo pointed out. "Let's get on with it, Donatello."

"Quite," Donatello said, holding up a finger. A ball of pale green light appeared at the end. Next to him, Michelangelo summoned a ball of violet light in front of her face, and Leonardo charged up a ball of blue light in front of his hand. _"Cero." _

The beams spiralled through the air, fusing together, the colours merging and flashing as it grew in size and brightness, tearing up the ground.

Ichigo readied his sword. "Getsuga - ..."

"_Santen Kesshun," _three amber shapes arced around him. "I reject." A triangular shield formed, the cero crashing against it harmlessly, rippling off to either side.

"Kurosaki!" Ishida called, as he, Orihime and Chad ran towards him. The amber shapes arced back to Orihime, flickering into her hairpieces. "You should've waited for us."

Ichigo hid a smirk. "I didn't think you'd want to help me, Ishida."

Ishida snorted. "I don't. The shaking from the garganta ruined my embroidery. I'm here for revenge."

Orihime giggled quietly. Ishida coughed, adjusting his glasses, his bow appearing in his hand. Chad made a low, amused noise in the back of his throat.

"Friends. Inconvenient," Donatello remarked. "Greetings, Ishida Uryu, last of the Quincy; Yasutora Sado; Inoue Orihime. I am Donatello of War."

"Like the turtle?" Orihime asked thoughtfully. "The smart one?"

Donatello twitched slightly. "_Like the artist." _

"Oh!" Orihime smiled, waving a hand. "Okay. Sorry. The turtle would've made more sense – you're both armoured! And masked! But," she sombered slightly, "we can't allow you to take Kurosaki away."

Donatello twitched again, a barely perceptible shudder of his fingers. "Leonardo, Michelangelo – deal with them."

The two Vasto Lorde lunged, blurring through the air.

* * *

><p>Ishida landed on his feet, backflipping through the air, his bow expanding from his pentacle as Leonardo floated down opposite him, white porcelain wings flared out behind him, eyes glowing yellow beneath his mask. He drew a hand back, letting loose with a volley of arrows.<p>

Porcelain brushed his shoulder as Leonardo flickered out of sight. Eyes widening, he realised Leonardo was behind him. He pushed off the ground, blurring to the rooftop of a nearby house, fingers snapping as he fired off a dozen arrows.

Leonardo snorted, appearing in front of Ishida, one talon flashing forward. Ishida flicked a Seele Schneider off his belt, the blade hissing out to materialise between two talons, holding it back.

"Your first mistake," Leonardo said wryly, "was assuming you could hit me with those arrows of yours."

Ishida flicked a hand , focusing. "_Your _first mistake," he replied, "was assuming I hadn't planned for that." Behind Leonardo, the arrows curved around, crashing into his back with explosions of blue light.

As the smoke cleared, Leonardo stood unharmed, his talon edging towards Ishida's face. "Your second mistake," he said, "was thinking you could hurt me with those arrows."

"Your second mistake," Ishida replied, placing his Seele Schneider into his bow. The tip of the sword flickered into an arrowhead, "was getting distracted."

The arrow blasted upwards, tearing through the visor of Leonardo's mask and through one of his eyes, emerging from the back of his head with a spray of bone, porcelain and blood. Ishida focused, turning it in the air so that it arced about and drove into Leonardo's back.

"Maybe it would have been better if you _were _a turtle," Ishida said darkly, adjusting his glasses. After a small pause: "Forget I said that."

Leonardo gasped, blood flying from his mask in a heavy spurt. "Your ... third mistake," he gasped out, "was thinking I wouldn't be able to regenerate." With a red glow, his mask reformed, the droplets of blood slowing to a stop in mid-air and floating back towards him. "Of all the Horsemen, my regenerative abilities are only rivalled by that of Verocchio of Death."

With a flash, his talon came down, tearing through Ishida's shirt, leaving bloody trails in its wake. Ishida hissed with pain, speeding away to land on another rooftop. As he felt his feet hit tiles, he heard a scraping behind him as Leonardo appeared, eyes bright, his talons ripping down Ishida's back.

Ishida pulled a silver tube from his pocket, tossing it over his shoulder. "A silver rod strikes the five-fingered stone bed – Gritz!" A pentacle expanded, materialising into a white shell around Leonardo. Ishida rebounded off it, soaring into the air. "Your third mistake was thinking that arrows were my only abilities."

He strung another Seele Schneider into his bow, charging the arrowhead and firing downwards. The arrow crashed through the shell, impaling Leonardo through the top of the head, emerging from the base of his back. Ishida drew his hand back, charging energy. "Licht Regen."

The arrows were small, but many, raining down upon Leonardo by the hundreds, each one exploding in a flash of blue until the Vasto Lorde was hidden by smoke, dust and light.

There was a rush of air behind Ishida. "Your fourth mistake," Leonardo said into his ear, "was letting me out of your sight."

Ishida spun, arrow glowing in his bow as Leonardo leapt backwards. "Your fourth mistake was thinking I wasn't expecting that." He let loose. The arrow hummed through the air, flickering purple and then fizzling out as it reached Leonardo's face.

Leonardo tilted his head.

Ishida's eyes widened, his breath suddenly coming sharp as he raised his bow again. Its blue glow suddenly turned purple, the structure drooping like liquid and then fizzling away.

"Your fifth mistake," Leonardo said smugly. "Was forgetting that I am Leonardo of Pestilence. With every slash of my talons, I injected larval parasites into your body. They're growing now, feeding off your spiritual energy and draining it from you. When they're large enough, they'll feed off your flesh, and when you die, they'll lay their eggs in your body."

"Bastard," Ishida said as a wave of nausea washed over him, roiling up from his gut and past his eyes, followed by a wave of pain.

"I hear that a lot," Leonardo admitted.

* * *

><p>"El Directo!"<p>

"Koten Zansshun, I reject."

The bolts of orange and blue spiralled around each other, crashing against Michelangelo's carapace. She turned, her armour glowing bright, a wave of golden light spreading out from it. Orihime manifested her shield, crouching behind it as Chad raised his shield over his body.

Michelangelo took a long breath, throwing back her head and raising two fingers. The bolts of light came thick and fast, exploding in flashes of fire against the pair's shields.

"Are you going to hide behind your shields forever, darlings? Come now, let's dance, dears," she said, tossing her hair about.

With a whoop, she flipped onto her hands, legs splayed out as she spun towards them, encased in a whirl of flame. Chad was in her path before she could reach Orihime, her feet slamming into his shield. He raised his left arm, the tips of his fingers glowing.

"La Muerte."

One of Michelangelo's feet swung towards him, glowing brightly. "La Incendio."

Orihime raised her arms defensively as the explosion spread out, flickering into the shape of a skull before spreading outwards, flames licking at buildings and scorching grass. When the smoke cleared, Chad was crouched, his shield raised, as Michelangelo backed off, one foot smoking.

"I could grow to like you," she remarked as a crack spred across her foot.

Orihime stepped forward, hands going to her hairpins. "Koten Zansshun, I reject."

A bolt of orange shot out of her hairpins, burning a trail through the air as it spiralled into the crack in Michelangelo's foot. With an explosion of light, the armour shattered, revealing fur and scorched flesh beneath, oozing black goo.

As Michelangelo looked down, hissing in pain, Chad lunged, fist raised.

"La Muerte."

Orihime had to shield her eyes from the explosion, a vast blue skull rising up, its mouth opening wide in a demonic chuckle before it vanished into smoke and dust. As the dust cleared, she saw Chad's shape drop to his knees.

Michelangelo set her damaged foot on his back, pressing him into the ground. "Oh, you two are just peaches! Damaging my foot like that. I'm impressed."

Orihime narrowed her eyes a little. Levelly: "Could you take your foot off my friend?"

"It's so cute," Michelangelo said, tossing her hair again, her eyes glowing bright pink through her mask, "that you even think I would, little honeybee."

Orihime fixed her with a long gaze. "Take your foot off him."

"Make me, darling."

Orihime raised a hand to her hairpins, talking quietly to herself. "Rokuten Zanshun, I reject." All six fairies flung themselves from her hairpins, jets of gold light swirling through the air, leaving orange dust behind them as they swooped and spun.

Tsubaki emerged in the lead, roaring, his aura glowing burningly bright. The other five spun around him, whirling into him, fusing with him until there was just a single lance of light trailing fire in its wake. It drove through Michelangelo's chest, porcelain shattering from either end.

Michelangelo threw her head back with a scream, eyes widening with a flash as Orihime sprinted at her, one hand chopping down at her shoulder, porcelain cracking beneath her hand. As Michelangelo turned her head slowly, Orihime spun, a kick landing against the Vasto Lorde's side.

"I only have a human's strength," Orihime admitted, "but one thing I've learnt is that if you weaken a Hollow enough in one spot, their whole body becomes weaker for it. It's the downside to using spiritual energy to enhance your durability."

"Beautiful _and _talented," Michelangelo purred as cracks spread along her side. "I've really hit the jackpot, darling. _La Incendio." _

"Shiten Kesshun, I reject!" Four fairies rushed back towards her, forming a pyramid shape against her. The blast of flame rippled across the shield, sinking into it and then exploding outwards against Michelangelo, sending her flying backwards. "Rokuten Zenshun, I reject."

"La Incendio," Michelangelo flung out both hands.

* * *

><p>"Bankai!"<p>

Ichigo emerged from the smoke, sword colliding with Donatello's arm. Donatello's mask edged close to Ichigo's, his eyes glowing a little brighter beneath his visor.

"Can you not enter a single battle without using that Bankai of yours, Mister Kurosaki?" Donatello asked, sparks flying off his arm as Ichigo scraped his sword across it. "Let's not beat around the bush. Show me that ability of yours."

"Should I ask which one you mean?" Ichigo asked, scowling.

"You should hardly have to, I think."

Ichigo raised a hand, dragging it down over his face. A Hollow mask appeared with a flash of black, his eyes turning yellow. "Getsuga," he growled, black energy gathering around his sword, "tensho!"

A wave of black burst from the tip of his sword, blasting across Donatello's chest, roaring past him and up to split open the clouds, a plume of darkness burning through a nearby telephone pole. Snorting, Donatello grabbed the sword and tugged it from his chest, blood oozing from the crack in his armour.

"Nicely done, Mister Kurosaki." One hand snapped out faster than Ichigo could see, fingers digging into his mask. "My comrades have many interesting special abilities which are no doubt serving them well. I am, alas, not especially intelligent. I traded any and all special abilities for speed, strength and durability. It's served me well."

He paused, pulling. The mask cracked, inching off Ichigo's face. "Unfortunately, Mister Kurosaki, it means your parlour tricks _do not impress me." _With a wrench, he pulled the mask off, tossing it behind him. With another wrench, he pulled Ichigo's sword from his hand.

Ichigo drew in a long breath as he felt a foot hit his gut, sending him flying back into a rooftop. Donatello landed next to him, throwing the sword over his shoulder. "You neither interest me nor amuse me as much as you do my masters, Mister Kurosaki. I am not Kuchiki Byakuya, _I will not entertain your antics, young man." _

Ichigo scowled, flickering away to another rooftop. Donatello was behind him when he arrived.

"I told you, didn't I? I traded my special abilities for speed, amongst other things," Donatello said. "I am _very fast, _Mister Kurosaki."

A hand landed against Ichigo's back, driving him down into the rooftop of the building. He crashed through the tiles and wood, tumbling down into a child's bedroom and then through the floor again, crashing into a dinner table to crater the floor.

He felt Donatello's hand closing around the back of his head, lifting him off the ground. "Did you ever think to learn the Demon Arts, Mister Kurosaki? When disarmed, they are the only weapon a shinigami has. You've been spoilt by your enemies so far. _They have been light on you on account of your youth."_

With a heave of his arm, he threw Ichigo threw a wall, watching as he bounced along the street. As Ichigo rolled to a stop, he felt the back of his head land on Donatello's foot.

"Bring back national service," Donatello said lamentingly. "That's what I say."

Ichigo vanished, rushing through the air towards his sword. As he neared it, his arm straining as he reached towards it, Donatello appeared, hand closing around the sword.

"By all means, Mister Kurosaki," he said softly, picking it up. "Take it back." He threw it over his shoulder again. "If you can reach it, of course."

Ichigo rushed past him, reaching for the sword. He ground to a sudden stop as a hand closed around his leg. With a snort, Donatello wrenched him back, throwing him down at the ground. With a rush of air, he was straddling Ichigo, one hand pinning his arms.

"Enough of this farce, I think," he said, raising a bony fingertip. A ball of blue light formed on it, growing larger. "This shall be quick, painless and effective. My preference as well as yours, Mister Kurosaki."

Ichigo drew in a gasping breath, struggling beneath him uselessly.

"_Howl, Zabimaru!" _

A blade flashed across Ichigo's vision, catching against Donatello's shoulder. He leapt backwards, cero still forming on his fingertip.

"Next Dance," another voice said, "white ripple."

A wave of white washed over Donatello, solidifying into ice. He remained still within the ice, one hand raised.

Ichigo's sword landed on his chest.

"Idiot," Rukia said, leaning into view. "Why'd you throw your sword away?"

"I didn't throw it!" Ichigo protested. "He took it from me!"

"You _gave him your sword?" _Rukia asked incredulously.

"I didn't give it to him! You're deliberately misunderstanding me!"

"Hey," Renji said sharply, pointing at the ice as a crack appeared. "We can tell Ichigo off for giving a Hollow his sword later."

"_I didn't give it to him!" _

"Right," Rukia said, raising her sword. "Remind me to tell him that I don't want Zangetsu for Christmas."

"_I never gave it to him!"_

"Or birthdays," Renji added. "If he'll give it to a Hollow, he'll give it to anyone."

"_I hate you both so much!"_ Ichigo paused, sombering. "Are Inoue, Ishida and Chad okay?"

"We have people helping them," Rukia said, a little hesitantly. After a pause: "Hey, maybe you should've given them your sword instead."

"_Why are you a bad person?"_

* * *

><p>A wave of sparks crackled across Leonardo's armour as he lunged for Ishida, sending him tumbling back. A white haori flickered into view, draped around a dark-haired, lanky shinigami with a bowl of sake in his hand.<p>

"Your nineteenth mistake, Turtle-boy," Eiji said softly, sipping his sake, "was not expecting the cavalry. Your forty-second mistake was not expecting the cavalry to be this damn handsome."

* * *

><p>Michelangelo's foot stopped in mid-air, clanging against a sword. A blond, spiky woman smiled up at her from in front of Orihime.<p>

"The name's Shuki," Shuki said. "Captain Higa Shuki."

"Michelangelo of Famine," Michelangelo replied.

Shuki snorted, pushing the foot away. "My name's better."

* * *

><p><em>Okay, next chapter will be up next week. If you have something you want to say, then by all means review. Thanks for reading.<em>


	4. Chapter IV

_Apologies, this chapter ended up being posted a few hours later than usual. Blame exhaustion from the past week for that. Anyway, here it is. As ever, reviews are greatly appreciated._

* * *

><p><span>Chapter IV.<span>

Leonardo narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

"Captain Kougami Eiji," Eiji said between sips of sake, "I'm not usually in for this whole 'saving' thing, but I couldn't bear watching the two of you flirt anymore. It was a tragic romance that could never be."

"We're not ..." Ishida protested.

"Shush, Quincy," Eiji said softly, "I'm tryin' to be cool and aloof."

Peering back at Ishida, he calculated the boy – and he _was _a boy, Eiji didn't put him any older than seventeen or eighteen – had maybe thirty minutes to live. Could be interesting – a time limit, if nothing else, got the blood going.

"But - ..." Ishida began.

"Oh, _relax," _Eiji said, waving a hand. "Take it easy, have a drink, you're probably going to be dead before I'm done here."

Leonardo snorted. Eiji hated the sound a little – it was the kind of sound posh people made when they were uncomfortable. "Your first mistake, Captain Kougami Eiji," he swept into a low bow, "was assuming that I wasn't expecting this."

"'Cuse me, Turtle-boy?" Eiji asked, turning a little.

"Someone always sweeps in to save the day. I knew that the moment I gained the upper hand," Leonardo said, tightening a hand into a fist, "and I made preparations. El Hongo."

Eiji's gaze flicked to one side, then another, as in a wide circle about him, green needles formed in the air, hanging towards him with a faint and sickly glow.

"These needles will impale you and then grow, devouring you," Leonardo said, "they target whoever has the highest spiritual pressure – which right now is you, Captain Kougami Eiji. So you could say that your second mistake was to be powerful."

With a snap of his fingers, the needles shot downwards. Eiji let his spiritual energy flow out, taking a step forward and vanishing, reappearing behind Leonardo. "Your thirty-second mistake was assuming I never learnt to _dodge."_

Leonardo snorted again. Eiji strongly considered ramming _Kyoujin Ikazuchi _into his mouth. His fingers twitched around the hilt.

"Your third mistake," Leonardo said as the needles curved around, "was not assuming that my El Hongo needles could change direction."

Eiji grinned, turning sharply to grab Leonardo by the shoulders and hold him steady. "Nah, I figured that. Your one-hundredth mistake was thinking I didn't. Your seventh mistake was having a body." He shoved Leonardo forward into the path of the needles.

They drove into him, the glow brightening for a moment before shattering with a flash. Leonardo threw his head back, laughing shrilly. "Your fourth mistake was thinking that my own abilities could be used against me, Captain Kougami Eiji!"

Eiji cocked his head, blowing out a long breath. "Do you _ever _stop counting people's mistakes?" He tilted his head, hooking a finger into the ring on Kyoujin Ikazuchi's hilt and sliding him out slowly. "Don't you ever get tired of it, man?"

"Never," Leonardo said, scraping a claw over his mask, "I am disease. Disease is perfect, exquisitely adapted to whatever situation it finds itself in ..."

"You've been waiting to monologue all day, haven't you?" Eiji asked, finishing his draw and swinging the sword about on his finger. "Please, go on, I'm rapt."

"... Of all the beings of the world, standing at the top, above God himself, is pestilence, radiant, the true angels of the - ..." Leonardo went silent.

He turned his head down, the green lights of his eyes flashing brighter, at the sword protruding from his chest, just beneath his core. The cables squirmed slightly, reforming connections where the sword had split them.

"Irrel ... irrelevant damage," Leonardo said, a little disbelievingly. "How ..."

"Don't get me wrong," Eiji said, "I'm fast, but you're faster. You could have dodged that, and had me impaled on your talons before I could have struck another blow. But you were so busy _talking, _man."

"I will heal," Leonardo said, craning his head around.

"Man, congrats," Eiji said, reaching to his obi and pulling a bottle of sake from it, pouring it over Leonardo. "But I don't think you can do that with my sword still sticking through your chest. Listen: Ye lord! Mask of flesh and bone, flutter of wings, ye bears the name of Man."

Leonardo snarled, turning to slash at Eiji. Eiji leapt out of the way, dragging Leonardo with him, the talon swiping through his sleeve.

"Disintegrate," Eiji continued cheerfully, "you black dog of Rondanini, you. Truth and temperance, upon this sinless wall of dreams unleash but slightly the wrath of your claws."

"Twin incantations?" Leonardo scowled. He slashed again, snarling as Eiji dodged out of the way, letting go of the sword for a split second before catching it again.

"Oh, you're a fast one. Look upon yourself with horror and then claw out your own throat," a wide grin spread over Eiji's face, "Binding Art Number Nine: Strike. Destructive Art Number Thirty-Three: Blue Fire, Crash Down."

He dragged his sword out, kicking off Leonardo as the explosion sounded. As the blue flames swirled up, a column of orange fire shot up between them, exuding a clogging smoke.

"Huh. Stronger than I expected. I should dilute this stuff," he remarked mildly.

Leonardo's scream rose up through the roar of flames. As the smoke cleared, Eiji saw him crouched, swathed in fire and red light, struggling. The glow was starting to fade, even with pain and fire distracting him. He wouldn't be distracted for long.

"Let's go, Little Kyou," Eiji murmured to Kyoujin Ikazuchi, focusing energy around his heels to push himself back down, sword out, the tip pointed at the back of his head. With a rip and a shatter it drove through, emerging between his eyes as Eiji's feet landed on his shoulder. "Ow, ow, burning."

Leonardo drew in a sucking breath. _"Epidemia."_

Eiji kicked off again, withdrawing his sword as a cloud of green smoke headed for him. With a flash, he flickered away to another rooftop. Heat hit his back. As the green smoke washed over him, he realised that Leonardo was behind him.

"I have five abilities," Leonardo said, "and my Epidemia is the third. As a disease is infectious, so am I, and my Epidemia will spread my injuries and ailments to any who are caught in it."

"You're kind of a bastard, Little Leo," Eiji remarked mildly, wincing as burns sprouted across his body. "I'm not looking forward to the head wound."

Leonardo snorted. "Luckily for you, I've already healed that. But I made certain not to heal everything until you were properly afflicted."

It was strange, feeling a hole appear in his back and then in his chest. His body expected the cold rub of metal against flesh, recoiled at the idea of a wound simply forming with no cause.

"Your great, fifth mistake, Captain Kougami Eiji," Leonardo murmured smugly into his ear, "was ever thinking you should injure me."

"Wow, that was a pretty big mistake," Eiji murmured dazedly, touching the wound on his chest. With a long, morose sigh, he flicked Kyoujin Ikazuchi around and drove it through Leonardo's gut. "Your ninetieth mistake was thinking I cared. Your sixth mistake was having a stomach area. Huh, that really hurts," he looked down as another wound formed on his stomach.

"You," Leonardo snarled, "are insane."

"Hey, don't misunderstand me, man. I'm terrified of dying. But you know, they say that if you're going to do something you're scared of," Eiji turned his head, grinning at Leonardo, reaching around to pat him on the shoulder, "you should bring moral support."

* * *

><p>Shuki crooked herself into a low bow. "We bow, Vasto Lorde."<p>

Michelangelo inclined herself slightly, drawing a hand through her hair. "If you insist, dearest."

Shuki looked to the side. The girl was alongside her, hands to her hairpins, ready – quite calm, quite prepared, quite professional, like any of the soldiers Shuki had fought alongside before. "Hey, girl. Go and heal your friend."

"But - ..."

Shuki flicked her across the nose. "You've done a good job, but there are only two people I care to fight alongside. Heal your friend." She turned back to Michelangelo. "Ma'am. Would you like to retreat? Your comrades are being dealt with as we speak."

"I'll pass, thank you," Michelangelo replied. "Tell me, darling, do you intend to fight an unarmed Hollow with your sword?"

Shuki chuckled, lifting her zanpakuto. "Rouzeki and I are one person. She isn't a weapon any more than my arm is. Truth be told, she doesn't even have a taste for violence. She's a prim little bint, finds it 'distasteful'." She winked at the blade.

Michelangelo tilted her head. "Then we dance, my love."

With a flicker, she was close, her armoured foot driving down towards Shuki's head. Shuki raised her sword to meet it, the porcelain cracking as it hit the blade. With a grunt, Shuki shoved her away, diving to one side, her sword flashing through the air at Michelangelo's side.

"Ooh, you fight dirty," Michelangelo laughed, spinning out of the way. "_La Incendio!" _

A wave of fire burst out, rolling towards Shuki. Shuki spread her legs out, widening her stance as she slashed back and forth, cutting through the flames. They broke into embers around her, spraying to either side. Shuki grabbed her sword with both hands, hefting it about in a heavy swing, the air rippling.

Michelangelo raised her arms, shielding herself as the wind pushed against her. Shuki leapt forward, sword clanging against the Vasto Lorde's arms, porcelain splintering and cracking.

"So brutal, my love," Michelangelo purred, "but so foolish as well. _La Incendio." _

Shuki flickered away, reappearing behind her. "I'm not that slow, 'dear'." Her sword drove down into Michelangelo's shoulder, splitting through the cracks there to cleave through flesh.

"As Leo would say, the snugglemuffin," Michelangelo gasped out as blood spurted through the cracks, "you keep making mistakes. _El Hambre." _

She threw her arms out, light gathering about her. Shuki backed off, flickering away to stand in front of Orihime and Chad protectively. "Girl, you can do shields, right?"

Orihime nodded.

"Throw one up. Do not let it down until the battle is over," she said, flickering away again.

Michelangelo tossed her head back, glowing almost blindingly bright before bolts of yellow energy started to come off her body, spinning and arcing through the air, splitting and dividing again and again until they turned the sky golden.

"Isn't it beautiful, my loves?" Michelangelo crooned. "Our own little world, encased in eternal light and heat, with me as its queen."

From the light, balls of fire emerged, streaking smoke behind them as they descended towards Shuki, gathering speed.

"I'm not as pragmatic as Donatello, and I'm not as sneaky as dearest Leo," Michelangelo said, "but nobody can do sheer destructive force better. Come, my love, don't scowl so – you, the girl, the boy, and every living thing in a kilometre radius will be incinerated. Where we were there shall be a desert where nothing can live for a thousand years."

"I," Shuki said firmly, "will kill you."

"Oh, my love, you are overreacting terribly. What's a few hundred people?"

"That isn't why I'm going to kill you," Shuki said, "I'm going to kill you because, no matter how much Ginrei tells me I need to master it, I will _always _hate the demon arts. Way of Binding Number Eighty-One: Splitting Void."

The square of white spread across the sky, filtering the gold and the amber light of the fireballs through a translucent shield, softening their glare.

"That large? With no incantation?" Michelangelo asked, taking a step back.

"It's weak as all hell," Shuki said, shrugging. "There's a reason that captains usually keep it small. It's stronger that way. But I figure your fireballs will explode as soon as they hit something." As she finished the last word, the sky lit up with a sheet of fire, rippling against the shield. Cracks spread along it, fragments drifting away to allow motes of fire through.

Michelangelo took another step back, raising a hand. A bright violet cero formed in her palm, blasting outwards. Shuki swiped her sword through the air, splitting the energy beam along either side of her. "Try harder, 'my love'. Or when you came to attack a teenage girl and a teenage boy in the town where their friends and families could be put in danger, were you not expecting to face a captain of the Gotei Thirteen?"

Michelangelo stammered, looking up as the golden sky faded back to the night, the shield disintegrating. "I didn't ... I'm not ..." She took another step back, raising her hands. "I will _kill you, _dear. Don't you _dare _try to threaten me."

She dashed forward, a sword of fire jutting from her hand. It sparked as it clashed with Shuki's sword, whistled as it flew over her head, sizzled as it just barely scraped her haori.

"La Incendio!" Flames burst out of her hands. Shuki's sword gleamed as she cut through the air, bisecting the fire.

"El Hambre," Michelangelo said, a glow gathering around her. As the first bolts of energy slid off her, Shuki blurred around her in a wide circle, deflecting them back down towards the ground, where they fizzled out.

Michelangelo flung herself into the air, an energy ball charging ahead of her palm. "Cero!" Shuki vanished before it hit her, reappearing behind her, a bare heel slamming into her back and throwing her downwards. Michelangelo landed on her feet, panting.

Shuki rested her sword against her shoulder as she landed. "I'm not Ginrei, who will give you the honour of an elegant death and mourn the passage of a good enemy. I'm not Eiji, who will let you go because you amused him with a good fight. I gave you a chance to retreat, and I would've given you a dozen more if you hadn't put innocents in danger."

Michelangelo bit back a snarl, straightening up and tossing her hair. "I'm not afraid of you, my dear. El Hambre was far from my best technique. It was the second of five. Shall I show you the third, darling?"

"You can show me whatever you like," Shuki said, "it hardly matters, does it?"

Michelangelo chuckled shrilly, running her hand through her hair. "You shinigami are so arrogant. It's amusing for a while but it grows ever so tiresome. _"La Espesjimo."_

She threw back her head, arms going wide as she was swathed in an orange glow, hidden from view. With a wail, she exploded, bolts of flame rushing through the air to crash into the ground with flashes of light: One at the roof of a building, one demolishing a telephone poll, one cratering the ground near Orihime while one wound through the air and then dropped to where she had been standing.

"My," a voice said.

"My," another said.

"My," another said.

"That never gets any less weird," a final voice purred. From the wreckage of each flash arose a Michelangelo, porcelain still glowing faintly. "So, my love? Are you impressed with us?"

"Cloning yourself?" Shuki said, turning a hundred and eighty degrees so that she could look at each four in turn. "Impressive. I'll never be able to handle that on my own."

"Just ..." a Michelangelo said.

"What we were counting on," another finished.

* * *

><p>They had him cornered now.<p>

"First Dance: White Moon," Rukia said, Sode no Shirayuki's ribbon describing a circle around Donatello.

He gave her a dry look, flickering out of the way of it as the ice rose up, as he had done with the last nine pillars of ice. This time, he appeared directly in the path of Zabimaru's bladed whip. With a surprised noise, he caught the blade, the wires between them straining. He shoved it away, turning as Rukia wound her ribbon about, a circle appearing beneath him.

He vanished again. As he reappeared, Ichigo swung his sword down. "Getsuga Tensho!" A wave of black burst from Zangetsu's tip, colliding with Donatello's outstretched palm and driving him backwards.

Ichigo sped around behind him, setting his blade against his back. A quick hand across his face manifested his Hollow mask, his eyes turning yellow. "Getsuga Tensho."

Black energy exploded outwards, the shockwave splitting the clouds open. Ichigo landed by Rukia and Renji. "Think we got him?"

"Depends how you define 'got him'," Renji said, raising a hand. Rukia set her sword against the ground, tapping points in it. "Get ready."

Donatello emerged from the shockwave, soaring down towards them.

"Next Dance: White Ripple!" Rukia yelled, a wave of ice bursting from her sword.

"Way of Destruction Thirty-One, Red Fire Shot," Renji said, sounding more than a little put out.

Ichigo swung his sword down. "Getsuga Tensho."

The three attacks collided with him, obscuring him for a moment before he batted them away with a wave of his hand. Closer now, Ichigo could see the damage. Thin cracks were spread across his torso, a few wider ones oozing blackish blood. One miniscule crack bisected the visor of his mask.

"How durable is this guy?" Renji muttered. "Maybe we should _all _give him our swords, it might make things quicker."

"You don't mean that," Rukia said airily.

"Nah," Renji grinned. "I don't. How's your plan going?"

"Going just fine, Renji. Stop mothering me."

"I'm _not _mothering you."

"You're _mothering _me. Like a _hen. _'Oh, how's your plan going?' I can execute a plan without you sticking your big nose into it," Rukia snapped.

"My nose is average sized!"

"It's weird. Like your eyebrows. _Everybody thinks so," _Rukia said.

"Er. Guys," Ichigo started.

"_Stay out of this," _they said together.

"You've been nobility too long, Rukia," Renji smirked, leaning down towards her, "you've started to get fancy notions of what noses should be like."

"I have _no _fancy notions," Rukia replied.

"You have fancy notions!" Renji said gleefully. "You spend your whole day judging people's noses."

Rukia turned on him, jabbing him in the chest. "Well, you know what? I may spend my whole day judging people's noses, but _I _don't go around thinking 'huh, how should I lose my kosode today? Oh, no, I tripped in the mud and the entire top half of my clothing was torn off! Won't somebody please save me?'"

"It's not _deliberate!"_ Renji replied, flailing.

"It's like your life's aspiration is to marry a tailor," Rukia said. "It's pretty sad."

"... Excuse me," Donatello said, raising a hand.

"_Stay out of this!" _They yelled.

"Better than marrying some lord, and we both know you will. You said you were going to marry me!" Renji yelled, jabbing a finger at himself.

"I was _seven! _I also said you smelt like manure and cooties, and that's truer now than it was then!" Rukia said. "Oh, everyone says it's a 'manly fragrance', but we all know what that means."

"Fine. I don't want to marry you," Renji said. "I'll marry somebody else."

"Like anybody will marry you."

"Lots of people will marry me!"

"Name one!"

"I ... I ..."

"I?"

"Ichigo!" Renji said, dragging Ichigo over.

Ichigo struggled against him. "I – what? No! I'm not going to - ..."

"_Stay out of this!"_

"But," Ichigo protested, "you're dragging me into this!"

Donatello cleared his throat loudly. "_Enough." _

All three went silent. Donatello floated to the ground, eyes glowing bright. "Kuchiki Rukia, young adopted daughter of the noble Kuchiki family, sister to Captain Kuchiki Byakuya. You wield Sode no Shirayuki, the most beautiful snow and ice zanpakuto in Soul Society, as voted on by the Shinigami Woman's Association, with power over ice. You trained beneath Shiba Kaien, and your captain is Ukitake Jushiro."

He turned, peering at Renji. "Abarai Renji, from Rukongai, a childhood friend – and informal fiancé, if I'm hearing correctly – of Miss Kuchiki. Lieutenant beneath Kuchiki Byakuya. You wield Zabimaru, a melee-type zanpakuto that takes the form of a bladed whip in its first release and a tremendous living snake skeleton in its final release. Trained beneath Aizen Sosuke, and later Kenpachi Zaraki.

"You see, I have studied all of you. I know your abilities. I know what to expect. So do you really think you can stop me?"

Rukia shrugged. "Worth trying," with a flicker, she appeared behind him, ribbon marking a circle out. "First Dance ..."

Donatello humphed, digging his heels against the ground. He slowed to a stop as Zabimaru wrapped around him, holding him in place.

"White Moon," Rukia finished.

Ice started to spread up his legs. With a groan, Donatello broke his bounds, sending Zabimaru flying apart, its wires torn. He smashed through the ice, speeding away as another pillar froze. "Come now, Miss Kuchiki! Eleven pillars and not a single one has caught me."

Ichigo sped behind him, sword swinging down at his mask. He caught it, kicking Ichigo backwards. "This assault is pitiful."

"Eleven pillars," Rukia remarked, her ribbon forming another circle. "That is a lot."

As the twelfth pillar formed, Donatello stared at it. "That isn't even anywhere near me."

"You say you know all of our techniques," Rukia said, "but how old is your information? If we were to never improve and never learn anything new, we'd be slaughtered in battle. Look at the pillars."

Donatello frowned, turning on the spot. "A perfect circle."

"We predicted your movements from the start," Rukia said, "and planned for them. _Fourth _Dance: White Storm."

Each pillar glowed, then collapsed into white light and snowflakes, swirling inwards on Donatello. Several moments later, a block of opaque ice hit the ground.

* * *

><p>Eiji panted, clutching his stomach. "Oh, man. This is – I could've thought this through better, right?"<p>

"Quite so," Leonardo said. "As you slow and falter, I regenerate, slowly but surely. You will have no moral support."

"Guess I'm stuck, then," Eiji said, raising his sword. "Don't get me wrong, man, I like Little Kyou here like my own adorable swordy baby brother, but he's kind of – psychotic. You know what I mean? He gets a bit scary at times, to be honest."

"You're babbling, Captain Kougami Eiji," Leonardo replied.

"I guess I am. Well, you've forced my hand, man," Eiji grinned. _"Laugh it off, Kyoujin Ikazuchi."_

* * *

><p>Shuki landed in a crouch, her shoulder smoking. "Ugh."<p>

"You were right," one of the Michelangelos said, "you can't handle this on your own. Ask the girl and the boy for help. Pull them into this, there's no need to be high and mighty, my dear."

Shuki shook her head, getting to her feet. "I'm not on my own, though," she said, resting her sword against her shoulder. "Rouzeki may not like fighting, but she can muster up some fury for special occasions. She hates you as much as I do."

"Cute," another Michelangelo said.

"Glad you think so, 'darling'," Shuki said. "_Pulverise, Rouzeki."_

* * *

><p><em>So, that's that for this week, chapter five will be up in a week. I've been checking my traffic stats, so loads of thanks to everyone who's been reading. <em>


	5. Chapter V

_Okay, here's chapter five. Enjoy._

* * *

><p><span>Chapter V: The Violent and the Lunatic.<span>

"Pulverise, Rouzeki," Shuki said.

Red and violet light burst out from her, winding around her sword. For a second it was obscured, caught in a whirlwind of light, before she swept it to one side, and back onto her shoulder, dismissing the light. Where her katana had been, there was a sword as wide as her shoulders at its base, shaped like a long, pointed tooth, serrated at the edges. The hilt had doubled in length, a horsehair tassel dangling off the end.

One of the Michelangelos chuckled nervously. "That's it?"

"It's just a bigger sword. What's it good for other than sheer force?" Another Michelangelo asked derisively.

Shuki shrugged. "Nothing. It's big, and heavy, and powerful. That's it – Rouzeki isn't really a subtle girl, bless her soul."

"We're underwhelmed, my love," Michelangelo said.

"You should be," Shuki replied, "it's not very flashy. But it does the job."

"We'll see," Michelangelo shrugged. "_La Incendio!" _

"_Cero!"_

"_La Incendio!"_

"_Cero!"_

Two waves of fire and two beams of violet energy converged on her. Shuki humphed, swinging her sword about in a wide arc. The Ceros disintegrated, fizzling out as the flames died. On every side, the Michelangelos stumbled, cracks spreading across their armour, bleeding black.

Shuki set her sword against the ground, the point cracking the earth. She looked over to one side, where there were flashes in the distance. "Looks like Kyoujin Ikazuchi was let out to play."

"You lied," one of the Michelangelos wheezed, "you said - ..."

"That Rouzeki was big, heavy and powerful. It is. Just because it's more powerful than you thought it'd be, that doesn't mean I lied," Shuki said mildly, flash-stepping behind the Michelangelo, swinging Rouzeki down. The serrated edge crashed against her shoulder, tearing down through the porcelain, cleaving her in two before crashing into the ground with a thud.

With a small intake of breath, the Michelangelo dissolved into black dust, flickering away. Shuki hefted Rouzeki up again, resting it on her shoulder.

The other three backed off, throwing their arms out.

"El Hambre!" They said in unison, gold light arcing off them. Bit by bit, the sky turned gold, flaring brighter than before.

Shuki huffed to herself, putting another hand around Rouzeki's hilt and swinging it. A shockwave spread upwards, the gold ceiling shattering into shards of light, twirling in the air as they floated downwards. With a flash, Shuki was behind another Michelangelo, Rouzeki colliding with her side and, after a second of resistance, crashing through.

As the second Michelangelo dissolved, Shuki turned to the remaining pair.

They raised their hands, eyes flaring bright. "Cero," they said together, the beams combining together in the air, turning from violet to bright pink. Shuki slashed downwards, the Cero splitting in two.

"Sheer power won't help you anymore," she said, flickering behind one of them, swinging Rouzeki down. The Michelangelo turned, blocking it with both arms, screaming as her arms shattered and the sword cleaved through her mask, continuing down her middle until it hit earth, cracks spreading across the road.

Michelangelo took several stumbling steps back, snapping her fingers. The world cracked behind her, straining out as if an invisible mouth was swallowing, before a garganta opened.

"It's been fun, but I've no taste for dying again, my love," she said, backing into the garganta. Shuki raised an eyebrow as it closed.

"Hey, girl," she said, turning to Orihime, "my friend might be needing your help."

* * *

><p>"Laugh it off, Kyoujin Ikazuchi."<p>

Kyoujn Ikazuchi glowed red for a moment, then suddenly blue, the blade straightening before crooks started to appear – a triangular indentation near the hilt, a smaller one on the other side a little further up, a larger one at the very tip. With a flicker, a red horsehair tassel appeared at the end of the hilt.

Eiji flicked it around in his hand. "Look at him. He looks so cuddly and innocent. He's not, don't let him deceive you, man."

Leonardo tilted his head. "I don't see the point of this. While you are under the effect of my Epidemia, using your released sword will only hasten your demise."

"Aye, can't deny that," Eiji said, "still, let's not waste time. C'mon, Little Kyou." He flicked the blade slightly, experimentally, then gave it a small practice swing.

Bursting from the practice swing came a sheet of blue lightning, spreading wide, crackling and burning through the air. Leonardo's eyes widened, flickering away as the lightning rushed over the spot where he was standing.

"Impressive!" He yelled up at Eiji. "You would have incinerated me with that, and taken yourself with you, and - ..." He trailed off. Eiji was behind him.

"You talk a lot, man, and you don't really say anything new," he murmured, swinging the sword upwards. Leonardo just barely managed to avoid the wave of lightning, flickering away as another one came rushing towards him.

Eiji appeared nearby as he slowed, jabbing the sword in a quick stabbing motion. Arrows of lightning shot out, raining down over the building where Leonardo had been standing until a moment before. As he flickered into sight, he heard the rush of a haori billowing in the wind as Eiji arose behind him, carving out a cross in the air.

He turned just in time, summoning a Cero and firing it. The two attacks struck in mid-air, flickering for a moment before they exploded in a wall of fire.

Leonardo landed on another building, then vanished again as a bolt of electricity swung past him like a whip. He summoned another Cero, waiting for Eiji to appear.

Predictably enough, the Captain did, heaving his sword forward, a sheet of lightning emerging from the tip to crash against the Vasto Lorde's Cero. As the explosion dug furrows in the street, Leonardo vanished.

"So," he said, as he reappeared, "your sword's ability is to summon waves of lightning. How very limited, Captain Kougami Eiji."

"Nah," Eiji said, reappearing, "that'd be silly. Kyoujin Ikazuchi can generate plenty of electricity from my spiritual energy, but its ability is to control and manipulate electricity in all of its forms."

With a crackle of static, avast ring of lightning appeared around them, glowing brightly. As Leonardo turned, another ring appeared, and a third, and a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, a seventh, an eighth, spinning about until they were contained within a globe of electricity.

Leonardo's eyes widened. "You'll kill us both, Captain Kougami Eiji!"

"I know," Eiji said exasperatedly. "Haven't you realised by now that I just don't care?" He pulled a small bottle of alcohol from somewhere on his person, downing it, then shaking himself off slightly.

"But ..." Leonardo started.

Eiji grinned, pointing Kyoujin Ikazuchi at him. "Ready, man?"

"I ..."

As the globe closed in on him, a burning sensation stronger than the fire earlier scorching through his armour and onto his flesh, the light became too bright to see.

* * *

><p>Donatello broke free from the ice.<p>

He knew he would. He was a Vasto Lorde – not just a Vasto Lorde, but a powerful one, enhanced by the red core that had been bestowed upon him. Still, he hadn't been expecting it to take so long, for it to drain his energy so. The Kuchiki girl was – talented; moreso than either of the boys, even if they had raw power on their side.

"You are foolish," he intoned, "to believe I could be restrained like that, but I commend your strategising. It is futile, however. My strength is unparalleled amongst the Horsemen."

He narrowed his eyes. The boy – Kurosaki – was crouched in the centre of an elaborate circle inscribed into the ground, with Kuchiki and Abarai, their swords sealed, resting their hands on his shoulders as Kuchiki chanted.

"Stay quiet, Hollow," Abarai grumbled. "We're nearly done."

"_Nearly done?" _Donatello asked incredulously. "You fought me, arranged a trap, froze me, so that you could – _ritualise_?"

"Oh, angel of sacrifice, look kindly on us," Rukia said, eyes shut, "oh, devil of bloodshed, look cruelly on our enemies ..."

"It's a damn impractical spell," Renji said, "long incantation, you need this big, complicated circle, markings on your arms." He tugged back a sleeve to show black symbols painted on across his forearms, "not to mention at least two people."

"And what, precisely, does it do?" Donatello asked. "I'm dying to know."

"Inscribing a sigil of the sun into the earth and breathing gently, sing a song of death ..." Rukia continued.

"Oh, just a spiritual energy transfer," Renji said.

Donatello narrowed his eyes. All three were starting to glow. The Kurosaki boy trailing blue light up into the sky, while Abarai and Kuchiki glowed green and white. "And the purpose of this?"

Realisation dawned as Kurosaki reached a hand up, and pulled his mask over his face. Donatello's eyes widened.

"Sing a song of fire, and rage. Way of Binding Twenty-Two: Soul Infusion!" Rukia said, the glow around her and Renji fading abruptly as Ichigo's aura flared white.

"Getsuga," he said slowly, darkness gathering around his sword as he rose to his feet. "Tensho."

The wave of darkness was immense. All at once, that white aura turned black, looming forward as a wall of dark that stretched up to the sky. Acting on instinct, he fired a Cero – hurried, not at full power, splitting apart as the wall passed through it, as if it was no more substantial than water.

It collided with Donatello across his chest, seeping into the cracks that they had made and prising them open, tearing off chunks of porcelain and ripping through the flesh beneath.

The wave passed after what seemed like an age, and he dropped, as if he'd been frozen in place before. Dimly, he shuffled about, trying to focus his energy into making a garganta as the three blurred figures moved towards him.

It was sloppy, when it appeared, the sky cracking open as if he was some lowlife Gillian. But he could live with that. He pushed off the ground, flying towards the portal even as the shinigami yelled at each other to stop him. He was through before they could retaliate.

* * *

><p>"Er, Ichigo – this is Captain Higa Shuki and Captain Kougami Eiji," Rukia said, nudging Ichigo forward a little.<p>

He raised a hand, scowling. "Hey."

Renji practically exploded behind him, flailing his arms. "Show them some more respect than that, Ichigo!"

Shuki snorted, waving a hand. "It's fine."

They were in Ichigo's bedroom, having clambered through the window, followed shortly by Orihime, Ishida, Chad, and the two captains. It was, Ichigo decided, altogether too crowded for comfort. He folded his arms, scowl deepening. He could see how this was going to go already – it involved all four shinigami insisting that they just had to stay at his house.

"Yo," Eiji said, raising a hand. His kosode had been discarded and his chest and arms were heavily bandaged, but he seemed cheerful in spite of that. Orihime did good work – Ichigo gathered that he was practically dead by the time she got to him. "Want a drink?"

"I'm underage," Ichigo said quickly. It was impossible to tell beneath the captain's hair if he was blinking, but he seemed completely bewildered by this idea.

"... And? I think I've got some opium around here too - ..."

"I don't want any opium!" Ichigo said a little too loudly, flailing his arms. "You – can't take drugs in my house, either. If you need to do that, take it outside."

"Are you sure ... ?" Eiji asked, cocking his head. "Because I was talking to your father, and he - ..."

"I'm _extremely sure,"_ Ichigo said. "No drugs in this house. Ever. No alcohol either unless it's a special occasion."

"Well, I won't promise anything, man," Eiji said bemusedly. "How'd your battles go?"

"Michelangelo fled when the tide turned against her," Shuki said. "Rukia tells me Donatello did the same?"

"I haven't a clue what Little Leo did," Eiji chirped.

"He fled as well," Ishida said. "Just before Orihime arrived to heal us. He was missing over half his body and the remainder was mangled, burnt and bloody."

Eiji mimed a cheering motion.

Ishida flailed an arm. "You could've killed all of us!"

"I know! Drink?"

"None of us are overage!" Ishida protested. _"Stop asking." _

"Speak for yourself," Renji grumbled. "Captain Kougami's not asked ... not ... er ... please stop glaring at me, Captain Higa, Rukia."

"No," Shuki said. "Don't encourage the drunk man."

Ichigo frowned. "Why did you come here, anyway?"

Rukia turned to him, expression turning somber. "Because Soul Society is under attack, Ichigo."

* * *

><p>Verrocchio of Death, they called him.<p>

Here he stood, at the top of the shinigami's Sokyoku Hill, as a sword wielded by a tremendous metal giant came crashing down towards him. He raised one skeletal hand, grabbing it effortlessly and looking around. Sprawled, bleeding and battered, were the young Captain Hitsugaya Toshiro, his icy wings ripped off; Captain Kuchiki Byakuya, face down amidst a carpet of cherry blossoms; Captain Kenpachi Zaraki, still trying to rise to his feet even now.

On every side, Gillians rampaged by the dozens, surrounded by a swarm of regular Hollows. Every time a Hollow fell, two more took its place, emerging screaming from the portals.

"Captain Komamura Sajin," Verrocchio intoned slowly. "Your skills would be better suited to dealing with the Gillians."

"I have my orders," Komamura growled.

"So be it, my friend. _Devorar." _

With a crunch, the metal giant folded in on itself, plates buckling, the creature beneath bleeding and cracking. At its feet, Captain Komamura roared, falling to the ground, the metal giant glowing red and vanishing into dust.

This was beginning to get a little bit tiresome, Verrocchio was finding. Some of the captains posed more of a threat than others – Zaraki had, by sheer force of spiritual power, managed to push him back, and Kuchiki Byakuya had nearly overwhelmed his defences.

"_Reap, Kazeshini!"_

"_Raise your head, Wabisuke."_

"_Snap, Tobiume." _

Lieutenants. Verrocchio turned as a spinning blade zigzagged through the air towards him. It bounced off his chest, hanging in the air for a second, long enough for him to catch the chain and tug. To his credit, Lieutenant Hisagi landed on his feet, his other blade curving around. The chain wrapped about him, tightening to bind his arms to his side.

He felt a surge of spiritual energy behind him, then a clank of metal as a blade landed against him. Wabisuke, wielded by Lieutenant Kira, equipped of the power to double the weight of an object with each strike. That power could be problematic, even for him.

With a series of clangs, Kira struck him until his back felt heavy, an invisible weight pushing down on him.

"Cleverly done," he remarked mildly to the two lieutenants. _"Devorar." _

There was a momentary pull on the air, then the two of them crumpled, blood spurting out, bones shattering, organs grinding audibly into what Verrocchio had always been fond of describing as 'mulch', to the distaste of the other Horsemen.

"Now," Verrocchio said, curling a hand into Hisagi's kosode to hold him up. "What, I wonder, is Lieutenant Hinamori doing, my friend?"

Hisagi made a choking sound, blood and spittle flying from between his lips. With a snort, Verrocchio let him drop.

"Way of Destruction Number Ninety-One, Thousand-Hand Bright Heaven Culling-Sear, " Hinamori said from behind him.

"Ah," Verrocchio remarked, turning. "Doing an incantation – for a level ninety-one spell, no less. I'm impressed by your ability with the demon arts, my friend."

"Way of Destruction Number Four, White Lightning," Hinamori continued.

Verrocchio's eyelights flared within his sockets. "Combined spells?"

Hinamori pointed Tobiume towards him, a fireball forming on the end as six spears, glowing bright red and crackling, formed around her. With a flick, all six shot forward, the fireball trailing just behind them, as Hinamori's shape flickered, reappearing to tighten hands around Hisagi and Kira's arms and vanish again.

"Hm," Verrocchio remarked as the spells struck.

The explosion was impressive, he had to admit. It tore through his armour and the flesh underneath, shattered his mask. As it subsided into smoke, the pieces started to form back together, bulbous swellings of white sprouting from his wounds to be reshaped into new limbs.

He was whole again once the smoke cleared. "An admirable attempt, my friend," he said to Hinamori as, a short distance away, she panted. "Rest now. _Devorar." _

Her knees hit the ground, then shattered, flesh peeling away to reveal bony knees and femurs, cracking and breaking. Distantly, Verrocchio heard a scream from Captain Hitsugaya. The ice wings were reforming, beating against the air as the young captain lunged for him.

"_Devorar," _he said without turning.

"_Danku," _came the response.

A semi-transparent wall shot up between them, repelling Captain Hitsugaya before it crumpled, glowing cracks appearing across it as it folded in on itself and shattered.

Verrocchio turned, lights flaring in his sockets again. An elderly gentleman, equipped of a tremendous moustache, strode towards him, drawing his swords. "Captain Kuchiki Ginrei. I expected you here earlier, to protect your grandson."

Ginrei lifted an eyebrow. "Byakuya is capable of looking after himself. I'm too old to be his keeper, you know how it is with grandchildren," he paused thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose you don't."

"Alas, no. But I'm very happy for you."

"My thanks," Ginrei said. "You are clearly powerful, I shan't insult you or endanger myself by holding back." He raised his sword. _"Fall, Tatsutahime."_

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter up next week.<em>


	6. Chapter VI

_Firstly, I got a review! Thank you, Nightkill, I'm really glad you like it so much - I admit, when I got the review I squeed out loud for a bit. _

_Anyway, here's chapter six, and I hope everyone enjoys. _

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Six: Ruin.<span>

"Fall, Tatsutahime."

Fire swirled around Ginrei's sword before separating outwards, forming nine more blades. They burnt in the air for a moment before the fire faded, revealing nine perfect copies hanging in the air.

"Tatsutahime is not so dissimilar from my grandson's Senbonzakura," Ginrei said, "but instead of splitting my sword into miniscule blades, I simply summon more swords and control them. It allows me greater brute force, and to retain close-range defence."

"Fascinating, my friend – ten swords at your command," Verrocchio said. "I don't think it'll be enough."

Ginrei peered at him. "We'll see. Let us attend to this, Tatsutahime." The nine copies swung in the air, flying at Verrocchio.

With a sniff, Verrocchio batted them out of the air, lifting a hand, purple light crackling around him. "_Devorar." _

"_Danku." _

A shield appeared between them, flickering for a second before crumpling. Verrocchio kept his hand pointed at Ginrei. "_Devorar." _

Ginrei vanished from sight with a rush if air, reappearing behind Verrocchio, blade flashing towards his neck. "That's a very potent ability," he said as Verrocchio caught his blade. "You create an invisible gravity well and crush your opponent in it. Without the ability to see it, it's difficult to evade."

"I'm glad you approve," Verrocchio said. "_Devor - ..." _Another blade slid into Ginrei's hand , sliding across Verrocchio's teeth, cutting the words off before they came out.

"You advertise your attack," Ginrei said. "It's potent, but easily avoided if you're on your guard for it. Way of Destruction Number Eleven: Bound Lightning." His swords crackled with electricity, humming into Verrocchio's body.

The Vasto Lorde snarled, porcelain moving like putty into an enraged face before snapping back to its standard, skull-like appearance. He leapt backwards, one hand out. _"Devorar!" _

Ginrei vanished again, waving his swords as he reappeared to one side of the Vasto Lorde. From all sides, eight swords closed in on Verrocchio. He batted them away again, the blades spinning back through the air before reasserting themselves and flying back at him.

"I told you, shinigami," Verrocchio nearly screamed as he fought them off. "Ten swords will never be enough!"

"You were so calm not long ago. Is that Devorar ability of yours that important to you?" Ginrei tilted his head. "You must have others, Master Hollow. Come, there's no need to sulk."

Verrocchio snarled, tightening his hand into a fist, long and skeletal nails digging into his palm. They came out bloody with red and purple. "_Cero ..." _he growled, raising his hand, a black ball, rimmed with violet, appearing within it. _"Tortura." _

A black beam shot from his outstretched hand, wide and smooth. Ginrei flash-stepped out of the way, reappearing just out of its path. A black wave pulsed out from the beam, sending him stumbling him backwards, burns appearing across his arms as he raised them protectively.

"Impressive," he said, "that is your Cero, then? Unique, Master Hollow."

"Hm," Verrocchio said, suddenly calm again.

Ginrei realised why when he heard no explosion. He looked around just in time to see the Cero curve around to come back towards him. "Most impressive, Master Hollow," he said, raising his swords in a cross shape. All eight others came towards him, joining them. "Danku."

The Cero crashed against the wall, straining for a moment before breaking through it. As it hit Ginrei's swords it parted, splitting onto either side of him.

"Foolish, my friend," Verrocchio said, as the two beams curved around and back towards Ginrei.

Ginrei flash-stepped away, then again as the two curved upwards towards him. As he reappeared on a building, Verrocchio flicked a hand, one beam changing course to swing around the other side. With a smile, Ginrei vanished, leaving his haori fluttering in the air. The beams kept moving towards it.

They exploded with a flash of black, ripples of dark energy tearing the tiles off the rooftop.

"Yamamoto won't be pleased," Ginrei remarked mildly as he appeared behind Verrocchio. "He has strong views about the haori."

Verrocchio twitched. "You are arrogant, Kuchiki Ginrei," he snarled, "you act as if you've already won this battle by escaping two of my techniques and batting uselessly at me with ten swords. You would need a hundred swords to even cut me."

"It's ironic that you should say that," Ginrei remarked, raising his sword. "I did think it was strange, Master Hollow, that you assumed I only had ten swords at my disposal. That would hardly be a fitting ability for a captain."

Verrocchio growled low in his throat, pacing back and forth.

"In actuality," Ginrei continued, "my Tatsutahime can summon up to ninety-nine copies for a total of, as you said, one hundred." He turned his swords in his hand, tossing them up into the air. With a flash of fire, each sword split into ten. A hundred swords turned in the air, faster and faster, the light flashing off them. "Let's see about cutting you, then. Fall, Tatsutahime, let's not keep the good Master Hollow waiting."

The swords stopped in the air, their tips all pointed down at Verrocchio from every side. With a rush, they shot inwards, cracking through porcelain and flesh to embed themselves in him, blood flying in jets. He slumped, blood pouring down his porcelain armour, before chuckling slowly.

One skeletal hand snapped up to tighten around the sword.

"You are so arrogant," he hissed, tugging the sword out of his chest, "you make a single injury and you think you've won, shinigami scum. You must be so pleased with yourself, your zanpakuto must surely be the most powerful metal-type in all of Soul Society, but it will _never be enough. _My regenerative abilities are greater than any of the other Horsemen. _I cannot die." _

"Fire," Ginrei said.

"What?"

"Fire-type. You claimed my zanpakuto was a metal-type. It's a fire-type – the honourable Captain-Commander and I used each other for training when we were boys."

"But – you ..."

Ginrei nodded. "Tatsutahime's fire abilities are very one note, that is to say that every sword she creates can explode. There are ninety-nine embedded in you and one in your hand."

Lights flared in Verrocchio's sockets as he lifted the sword in his hand up, watching as it glowed bright orange.

"Burn, Tatsutahime," Ginrei said.

Distantly, at the edge of the Court of Pure Souls, the Gillians wailed as an explosion plumed.

* * *

><p>Verrocchio landed burning amongst the sands of Hueco Mundo. His regenerative abilities had saved him from complete incineration, rebuilding him faster than he could be burnt away. Sprawled around the temple in various states of recovery were Leonardo, Michelangelo and Donatello.<p>

The shinigami was sat on the steps, rolling a red core around in his palm. "Verrocchio."

"Master," Verrocchio said, bowing his head. "I was – defeated. Did our agent ... ?"

"Our agent," the shinigami murmured, eyes set on the core, "successfully used the distraction to acquire the information we need. We have the location of the Reaper's Core now. Unfortunately, your compatriots failed to retrieve the Kurosaki boy and the Citizen's Core."

Verrocchio folded his arms, looking over the other Horsemen. "... Should I?"

"No, let them live. I have other plans for them," the shinigami said, "come with me, Verrocchio. There's something I want you to see." He arose from the steps, bare feet kicking up sand as he walked. Verrocchio followed.

"Luzarches detected an interesting subject for another experiment earlier," the shinigami said, "he is – very weary. When you have a moment, see what you can do for him. The air of this place is bad for him, ironically."

"Yes, Master."

"You remember, don't you?" The shinigami asked. "When Luzarches and I found you, a newly fledged Adjuchas, scared and alone and just waiting to be devoured? Your evolution when the Core was given to you was faster than any of the others. I was so proud."

"Thank you, Master," Verrocchio said.

"But with luck, you'll no longer be my greatest creation," the shinigami said sharply. "The other Horsemen are fine examples of Gillians exposed to Cores, and you are a fine example of an Adjuchas exposed to one – but now it's time to go one step further."

They passed over a sand dune. Sitting nearby, staring at them intently, was a Vasto Lorde. A natural Vasto Lorde, her arms folded over her Hollow hole. To Verrocchio's eyes, she resembled a humanoid scorpion carved from bone and porcelain.

The shinigami extended a hand in greeting. "We spoke before."

The Vasto Lorde snarled. "We did. This had best not be a trick, shinigami. I came here in good faith."

Verrocchio knew what she was talking about – the shinigami would have offered her power, the ability to transcend the endless struggle to survive that defined Hueco Mundo. It was an offer Aizen had made various powerful Hollows, one that carried weight.

"We shinigami might be brutes," the shinigami said, "but we make terrible tricksters." With a flick of his hand, he sent the core flying into the Vasto Lorde's Hollow hole. It expanded to plug it, then started to glow a bright red.

Sand started to swirl around her – thin channels at first, then thickening into a tornado. In the gaps between the sand, Verrocchio could see her reach up to her mask and dig her fingers in. As the tornado thickened, anything more was hidden from view.

"Perfect," the shinigami said.

* * *

><p>School was going to be Hell, Ichigo could just tell.<p>

"Yo," Eiji said, sliding the door open. Renji, Rukia and Shuki were by him, all in school uniforms, all looking both innocent and apprehensive. "This our class?"

"Oh," the teacher said, "yes. Class, welcome our new ... new ... new transfer students – Kougami Eiji and Higa Shuki. Hopefully they'll be sticking around for longer than our other transfers have. And welcome back Rukia and Ichigo's cousin Renji! Hopefully you two won't be flitting off for any more mysterious absences this term."

"H-hopefully," Rukia said sheepishly, waving at the class.

"We, we," one girl blurted out, staring at Renji, "we thought you left because of the _forbidden love _between you and your cousin!"

Ichigo's head hit his desk. Nearby, Ishida adjusted his glasses awkwardly while Orihime tried to look somewhere else. Renji started to go bright red. All of a sudden, an arm was around his shoulder, and he was being dragged against Eiji's side.

"Don't be silly," Eiji said, grinning diabolically, "Renji's not going out with Ichigo. He's going out with _me. _Isn't that right, snookums?"

Renji stammered for a moment, freezing. Eiji's grin only grew wider and more oddly sharklike. "Um. Yes." A pause. Ichigo felt a pall of horror come over him – he knew that intake of breath and furrowing of brows. It meant that Renji was not to be outdone. "In fact," he continued with newfound confidence, "Eiji and I are going to get _married." _

"Is that legal?" Someone asked.

Renji stammered again. After a second: "You shouldn't think of how things are but how they _should be!" _Next to him, Eiji nodded solemnly.

"My boyfriend, guys," he grinned, pointing at Renji. "Isn't he awesome?"

"_No," _Renji said. Beat. "I mean. Yeah, I am. Snookums."

The teacher somewhat hastily ushered everyone to their seats. Shuki and Rukia took up positions either side of Ichigo (he was sure people had been sitting there already, but they seemed to be on the other side of the room with bowls of sake), while Eiji lounged behind him and Renji settled in front.

"Hey," Shuki whispered to him, "rooftop. Lunchtime. Be there."

"Why?" Ichigo whispered back.

"Ichigo," Rukia hissed disapprovingly. "If we were going to tell you here we would have."

"But," Ichigo protested, "why don't you just _tell _me?"

"Because," Rukia said primly, "we are _trying _to learn _calculus." _

The rest of the class passed in a fit of blissful normalcy that only served to hammer into Ichigo's skull that come lunchtime, nothing was going to be normal. Everything would suddenly become ridiculous or violent or both, and he'd be left with a thumping headache and potentially a lot of bandages.

Lunchtime rolled by too quickly. Ichigo trudged to the roof behind the shinigami, with Orihime on one side and Chad on the other. Ishida loitered near the back, so as to avoid giving people the erroneous impression that he was friends with these people, or even really knew them. It was just that the rooftop happened to be on the way to another engagement and/or he had carelessly left something there.

The meeting didn't start for a while. First, Eiji hurriedly downed some sake, looking almost panicked about it. Shuki patted him on the shoulder, telling him that the sobriety was more afraid of him than he was of it; then Rukia unpacked her lunch and sipped some of her drink.

"We've lost contact with Soul Society," Rukia said, "shortly after we arrived. It's likely that either somebody is running interference or they've cut off all kind of interdimensional transmission to try and stem the threat of any kind of invasion."

"Is everyone okay?" Ichigo asked.

"No idea," Rukia said. "When we left there was an invasion force of Gillians and at least one powerful Vasto Lorde. That's – serious, Ichigo. One way or another there'd be high casualties. It means, amongst other things, that Soul Society would be in no position to help us even if we could contact them."

"But that's fine," Eiji said, "it just means that Master Ginrei isn't going to make things boring for us. Ow!" He winced as Shuki elbowed him in the side.

"It means that if we face an attack of a similar scale," Shuki said sharply, "we're stuck with what we have. Apart from everyone here, who can help?"

"Well," Orihime said thoughtfully, "Mister Urahara is a shinigami, isn't he? And Yoruichi, and Tessai. There's Hachi's friends, but they don't – get involved, usually. Apart from that, it's just us."

"That won't be enough," Rukia said, shaking her head, "these cores ... did you notice them?"

Chad nodded gravely. Ishida adjusted his glasses. "Spiritual energy gathering devices," he said, "we use similar items to imitate a Quincy's abilities for Quincy who have trouble forming bows properly, but this was – much more advanced. It collected spiritual energy faster than anything I'd ever seen, and then immediately used it to empower the body it was set into."

"You're sharp," Shuki said approvingly. "For a Quincy."

Ishida snorted. "You're skilled. For a shinigami."

Shuki grinned at him, ruffling his hair. Eiji raised an eyebrow at her. "What?"

"Nothin'. Sake is making me go weird, man," Eiji said.

On one side of the roof, Ichigo felt the explosion from Renji before he heard it. The lieutenant had been waiting there, arms folded, growing more and more irate with every word that was said.

"Did you have to pretend you were my boyfriend?" Renji said suddenly. Everyone turned to look at him.

"Yes," Eiji said briskly.

"_Why?" _

"Because I'm a captain, and as such it is my prerogative to _torment you," _Eiji said cheerfully. "Don't worry, man. I asked Captain Kuchiki – er, Byakuya- if it was okay."

"I hate that that's plausible," Renji grumbled.

Rukia cleared her throat loudly, picking up a rice ball with what looked like killing intent. "Getting back on topic – Orihime, would you like some of my rice ball?"

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Rukia smiled warmly. "Getting back on topic – we barely survived this attack. Captains Kougami and Higa, Renji and I had the element of surprise, but things might have gone very differently if we hadn't."

"Ultimately this wasn't a full-scale attack either," Shuki said, "we might not be so lucky next time. We need to know each other's abilities. We need to be ready. We need - ..."

"A _training montage," _Eiji said, interrupting her.

"To train. We have to be ready – and there are some here who could very quickly reach a whole new level of power."

"Ichigo's done that before," Orihime said enthusiastically. "He's an expert now."

Eiji chuckled into his sake.

"Actually," Rukia said, "Captain Higa wasn't talking about Ichigo."

"Inoue Orihime, Yasutora Sado, Ishida Uryu, Kuchiki Rukia," Shuki said, grinning. "You are summoned to the training chamber beneath the Urahara Shop this evening, and every evening, until you have some suitably awesome things to reveal to any potential enemies."

There was a long silence.

"Bring sake. It'll appease me," Eiji added.

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter up next week, thanks for reading.<em>


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